


Right Hand

by LittleMouse



Category: Chronicles of Riddick (2004), Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: Explicit Sex, M/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slash, Vaako is a little schizophrenic, it's really only his long-lost personality, or at least he hears voices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-24
Updated: 2012-09-13
Packaged: 2017-11-12 19:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMouse/pseuds/LittleMouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Chronicles, Riddick's looking for a good advisor, Dame Vaako's looking for power, Vaako's just looking for a way out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_You keep what you kill._

That was the last thing he’d said to him - after the few moments spent with head bowed in respect, he’d fled. Fled the hall, fled his wife, fled the Lord Marshal, and fled the terrible, earthshattering mistake he’d made.

He’d gone straight to the Purifying chamber, come out numb, barely able to feel his heart beating. He’d slept that night in the tiny soldiers' barracks deep in the bowels of the ship, the room he’d always kept back for when preparations for invasion were kept up so late he had to snatch a little sleep there, instead of walking all the way back to his quarters. Or for when Dame Vaako became just too much to bear.

By now, she’s his.   
 _  
Good riddance._

The Lord Marshal could take anyone to consort, married or no, male or female, young or old. Didn’t matter, and no blood had to be spilled. If he wanted to wed her,  _then_ Vaako would have to die. He wasn’t worried about it. He didn’t really see Riddick as the marrying type.   
  
 _And if he does want to marry her... so be it._

Vaako wasn’t afraid to die. He’d let his Dame push him into trying for ultimate power over the Necromongers, and he’d never worried about the outcome if he were to lose. He only knew that the previous Lord Marshal was weak, and wasn’t good for their people. Vaako didn’t care about the religion. He didn’t care much about the Underverse. He only wanted the Necromongers strong and well-led. He’d had doubts about his own ability to lead them, but none about Riddick’s. Headstrong, impulsive - dangerous, but with potential a blind man could see.   
  
 _If he wants to kill me for her, I will not fight._

There were others capable of being Commanders. Others capable of being First Among Commanders - not likely that he would hold the title long, anyway - but there were no other Riddicks. ‘ _Which_ ’, he thought with a sudden flash of humor, ‘ _is probably a good thing, so far as this universe is concerned_.’

He spent the next day in his usual routine of reviewing troops, meeting with the other Commanders, plotting out courses - waiting the whole time with well concealed nervousness for guards to appear and drag him to the High Chamber. It didn’t happen, which was almost worse than if it did. His state of nerves unsettled him, and he went back to the Purifyer. He came out this time almost certain that his heart was no longer beating - two Purifyings in two days was dangerous.

But his nervousness was gone. Along with any other emotion, leaving behind the calm, efficient machine the last Lord Marshal had admired. He took a small amount of dinner, and a smaller amount of rest, before starting on the third day. It passed almost in a blur - he knew he was performing his duties with perfection, but he felt far away from it all. He’d never had two Purifyings so close - the late Lord Marshal had once punished him with two separated by a day of rest. He’d noticed this odd distance then, but it was intensified now.  
  
 _I’ll not do it again - not for awhile._

The fourth, fifth, sixth day slipped quietly by. There were no orders for the army to assemble and descend on any of the nearby planets, no guards appearing to take him before the Marshal. He sent a menial to his chambers to fetch his plainest clothing, scorning the thought of the elaborate outfits Dame Vaako had always chosen for him. He stayed in his small, single room with its narrow bed and tiny bathroom.

It was the most comfortable he’d felt in years - if only it weren’t for the shadow of punishment hanging over his head, punishment for that one mistake.  
  
 _I thought she was only a prisoner._

No excuse. He could remember a thousand and one little signs now, in only the few moments he’d seen them together, that told him otherwise. ‘ _Blind at the time, and it won’t be forgiven_.’ By the seventh day his nervousness was back full force, and he went reluctantly back to the Purifying chamber.

When he staggered, sure he was dead, back to his quarters, she was waiting.

Arranged perfectly on the narrow cot, her bronze dress contrasting brightly with the plain grey blanket. She was dressed as though for court, her hair elaborately arranged and dripping with jewels, sparkling with the mica she dusted into it. The dress clung tightly to every curve of her body, and he wondered, not for the first time, how she was able to move. Her face was made up to perfection - she looked like a bright diamond dropped down onto the ashes of a dead fire.

"Cylus." Her voice was the well-remembered purr that set off alarm bells in his newly-pure mind. 

‘ _She wants something_.’

"Wulia." His voice was polite, nothing more. He’d rather have called her Dame, but she had started informal, and it was her choice. She pouted at him now.

"Is that all the greeting you have for me, husband? We have not seen each other in so long. Why do you sleep here, and not in our chambers?"

"Your forgiveness, Dame." That one slipped out without conscious thought. "There is much to be done."

"Much to be done?" One elegant eyebrow arched upwards. "We attack no planets, we gather no supplies, we take no converts."

He did not deem to reply. The courteous request had been all he was willing to concede. He wished his chambers were large enough to walk away from her - he still stood in the open doorway. There was nowhere else to go without decreasing the distance between them. He was unwilling to do that.

She narrowed her eyes at him, standing in one graceful motion and drifting over. Her small, elegant hand came to rest on his chest, but he felt nothing. He was wearing his light armor - not that it mattered. As numb as he was from Purification, he wouldn’t have felt it on his bare skin.

"Cylus - what shall we do about him? When will you be ready for a Challenge?"

"What?" He nearly gaped at her.

She frowned, the delicate line of her eyebrows drawing tightly together. "The Lord Marshal, fool. Riddick?" Her voice was almost a hiss. "Surely you don’t intend to leave a  _breeder_  in charge of our glorious race? He will lead us nowhere but to destruction." She waited, but he did not respond, only gazed at her. " _Cylus!_  What is wrong with you? You were eager enough to attack Lord Zhylaw!"

"He was afraid. He was no longer fit to lead." Softly spoken words that explained everything, so far as Vaako could see.

"And you think  _Riddick_  is fit?" She was screeching at him now, flinging her elegant self away to stalk around the tiny room. "A breeder? Who knows nothing and cares nothing for our religion? Who has ordered no attacks in a week? Who wept over a single convert moving on to Underverse? He is unfit! He is weak!"

"He is not weak..."

"He is! He will not lead us to ultimate glory! He has refused to take new converts! He has just half an hour past revoked the Law of Mandatory Purification! He says we may go or not, as we please! All our soldiers will remember pain, fear - our army will be useless! He has refused to hold council with the Lords and Dames, he has brought unholy beasts aboard our glorious ship, he has shown no interest in taking a cons... in following our way of life, he has..."

Vaako tuned her out, all his attention suddenly on that broken-off sentence.  _He has shown no interest in taking a consort._ He had not taken Wulia. Sudden despair and relief was clawing at the back of his mind. Would he be forced to keep the vile woman forever? Have this screaming, nagging creature who had lost all beauty in his sight for _ever_ a weight around his neck? The onslaught of emotion nearly staggered him - after three Purifications in a week, he would have thought himself removed from this.  
 _  
Hold a moment - why did I feel relief?!_

The Purifying had also taken away the gentle illusions his mind had protected itself with - as much as he wanted rid of Dame Vaako, he realized that he did not want to see her digging her poisonous claws into Riddick. Didn’t want to see him baffled and hemmed in by her sly manipulations, lost in the confusion Vaako had been mired in for the last five years, since she had wormed her way into becoming the Commander’s wife. He wouldn’t be able to lead like that. Yes, for the good of the Necromongers, he was relieved that Riddick had not taken Wulia.  
 _  
And is that the only reason?_

‘ _Shut up_.’ He told the tiny voice whispering in his mind, and tried to turn his wandering attention back to the shrieking banshee in his room. She was going on now about the sacrilege Riddick was committing against the holy precepts of their religion, but he knew that the one broken-off sentence was the true reason behind her rage. She had been so sure of herself, absolutely certain Riddick would take her to bed, perhaps even to wife - then she would have the ultimate power she craved.

He watched her as she walked, the golden-bronze dress stretching and flowing around her luscious curves, and wondered why Riddick had not claimed her. Before he realized it he was speaking aloud, cutting her off in mid-rant. "He did not call for you at all?"

The glare he received would have caused a lesser man to flee for his life. "He  _called_ for me."

"Then I do not understand..."

"In the  _daytime_. And did not bid me stay!" The last word was almost a shriek, and she flung herself back onto the narrow bed. "Such an insult I will not tolerate! It only shows how weak he is, Cylus, you know that! He does not even think he can keep a consort? How pitiful! He has taken several ladies  _and_  a lord or two - all in the daytime, and none to stay!"

Vaako nearly snickered. Riddick was cleverer than he thought - he had taken care of any desire for Wulia and yet reduced her to the ranks of a casual screw. Even if he didn’t desire her, it was a smart move - it effectively cut off her power over the others, especially since Vaako had removed himself from their chambers. That would be known - it was almost an open desertion. He had only two things to do, and her disgrace would be complete - refuse her request to return, and take off the Torian, the thin marriage necklace with her symbol, that he had worn around his neck for five years.

Thinking of it made his fingers go to the edge of the chain that was visible, and her eyes turned to stone.   
  
"Do not  _dare_."  
  
"I will not challenge him."

"You will do as I say! I was higher in the court than you when we wed, you will do as I say and no argument!" She was back on her feet.

"I will not."

She slapped him then, with her little velvet petal of a hand, and had not enough strength to even turn his face to the side. He couldn’t help but laugh a little, and rage twisted her features into something foul.

His nose wrinkled a bit, and he stepped aside from the doorway. "I believe, Dame, that you should depart for your chambers. Night comes, the soldiering halls will not be safe for a refined lady such as you to wander."

"You will accompany me to  _our_ chambers, and you will stay with me tonight."

"I will not."

"You  _will_ , else I will denounce you to the Lord Marshal as a conspirator!"

He frowned then. She would do it, he knew, and Riddick would be eager to believe it. Why wouldn’t he, when Vaako was responsible for the death of the woman-child he had loved? He sighed and surrendered, holding out his arm without a word.

A smug look came over Wulia’s exquisite face, and she slid her dainty hand into the crook of his elbow and waited for him to lead the way.

He took her from the dark halls to the elegant upper levels of the ship, and when they reached their chambers, guards were waiting for them.

 


	2. Chapter 2

"Your presence is requested in the High Chambers." They were courteous enough - Wulia shook her arm away from Vaako and stepped toward them, all smiles.

"The Lord Marshal calls for me?" Her voice radiated calm, held a mild interest, a gentle curiosity.

Vaako knew her well enough to hear the hope and triumph hidden beneath the meeker tones. It was evening, all she needed was one night in Riddick’s chambers, and she would be considered his consort, even if he never took her to bed again. Even if he took dozens of others to his bed. So long as none stayed the night, she would reign supreme among the fatuous idiots in the high court. Vaako wondered vaguely what Riddick’s advisors were thinking, if they did not explain such important details to him. Small things, yes, but so important...

He stepped away from his Dame, waiting to see the guards escort her away. He had a few small personal items in their chambers he wanted to keep. As soon as they were gone, he would collect them.

"Lord Vaako?" He jerked his wavering attention back to the guards. What was wrong with him - he couldn’t seem to stay focused on anything. He could tell, now, that they were waiting for him. "The Lord Marshal requests your presence, as well."

"Why him?" Wulia said the words before she thought, a major slip for his cunning wife, and he saw her lips tighten in self-directed anger.

The guard who had spoken was already shaking his head. "I know not, Lady Vaako. Will you follow us, please?"

She turned and waited imperiously for Vaako, and he stepped wordlessly to her side, waiting as she took his arm again. They walked through the halls, oddly crowded with members of the Necromonger elite, and she kept her head high and proud. They had mocked her lately, gently and so carefully, about the desertion of her husband. Well, now they would see! He was right by her side again, obedient as before. As soon as the Lord Marshal kept her in his chambers tonight,  _she_  would desert Vaako. She would return his Torian in the most public place possible -

Her gleeful thoughts of the public humiliation of her husband stopped short when the guards led them past the entrance to Riddick’s personal chambers. Her eyes grew wide, as did Vaako’s, but neither of them said a word as they were led further down the hall to the real High Chamber, not the rooms commonly referred to with those words. The High Chamber of the Judgement of the Lord Marshal, a place no Necromonger wanted to go.

The intricately carved doors swung open to reveal the small chamber. Riddick was sprawled with easy grace across the High Throne at the far end, three of the half-dozen Hellhounds he’d had retrieved from Crematoria lounging at his feet. Vaako paused at the door, eyes made sharp by a sense of danger sweeping around the room, trying to see everything in it. The three Commanders directly beneath him in power were there, along with the four main advisors to the late Lord Marshal, several Commanders he had recommended for promotion - a recommendation completely ignored - a few of the members of the high court that had a little sense. Altogether a strange gathering.

Dame Vaako had released his arm the instant the doors opened, and had already swept forward to bow deeply in front of Riddick, favoring him with a view straight down the front of her dress. Vaako knew from experience just what her deep cleavage revealed, but the black goggles kept him from seeing if Riddick’s eyes took advantage of it. He walked forward warily, trying to keep track of everyone in the room. They were standing still, which made it easier - his inability to concentrate was beginning to worry him.

The physical weakness that came after too many Purifyings was also nagging him - he knelt carefully, and took a deep breath before standing, using every ounce of control he had not to wobble. He needed rest after that last Purifying - the new Purifyer had seemed to take absolute delight in his work. It had been the single longest session Vaako had ever had, and on top of two previous Purifyings only a few days before... His physical reactions were beginning to frighten him - and the fact that he was frightened after an emotion-wiping Purification just made everything worse.

Dame Vaako was chattering - on and on like some inane bird. He couldn’t force his sluggish brain to focus on her words. They were probably just babble, anyway. He looked at the throne instead, saw the black goggles aimed directly at him, saw the three huge Hellhounds sitting up and watching him curiously. He knew they were deadly, yet for some reason he felt no fear of them. Death would be quick under those fangs and claws. Somewhere deep in his mind a memory stirred, a long-forgotten word whispered its way across his consciousness...  
  
 _Pack..._

He gave his head a tiny shake - where had that come from?

Riddick spoke suddenly, in that deep voice that reminded him of gravel. "So you won’t Challenge me?"

Vaako’s eyes flew from the Hellhounds back to that unreadable face.

"My Lord?" Why did his voice sound so far away?

Wulia had stopped her babbling, her eyes wary and distant. She took the smallest step away from her husband, as if to show they were not together in what happened next. She was sure Vaako was about to be forced into a fight. The thought pleased her - she could barely contain a smirk.

Riddick didn’t answer his question - he gestured toward a screen at the side of the hall, and a tech jumped to push some buttons - suddenly the Vaakos saw their own images on the screen, a video capture of the embarrassing scene just enacted in the soldier’s quarters. Wulia looked enraged. Vaako closed his eyes tight, feeling a faint blush forcing its way past his guard to color his cheekbones. To have all these people - Riddick - watching while his wife ordered him around like a child - he wished his hair was out of its elaborately braided tail, so that it would hide his face when he bowed his head. He heard the sound of Wulia’s weak slap, heard his own choked laughter - it was echoed by snickers around the room, and he felt his cheeks get hotter. He sincerely wished the floor would vanish beneath him, so he could fall down into the darkness and never see any of these people again.

There was a sudden gentle pressure against his thigh - it was oddly comforting, and he reached down without thought. His fingers encountered something hard and smooth. He let his hand run slowly along it, and the sudden rumbling sound snapped him out of his mortified trance. He stared down to see his fingertips resting on the armor-plated head of one of the Hellhounds. The rumbling sound was something akin to a purr. He jerked startled eyes to Riddick, not daring to move his hand.

Everyone else in the room was staring at him in amazement - Riddick only smirked. "I thought so."

The words were meaningless to Vaako and apparently to most of the others in the room. They all looked as confused as he felt.

Wulia stepped closer to the throne, her eyes hiding her desperation behind a sweet demure gaze. "I assure you, my Lord, I was only testing my husband. I desired to see if his loyalty would go to you - I wished you no hardships at his hand."

‘Excellent save.’ Vaako thought, unable to keep from admiring her cunning. The gentle words and dulcet tone were easily believable. Most of his Commanders and a few of the elite looked uncertain.

Riddick did not. "Somehow I don’t believe you, bitch. Vaako."

"My Lord?"

"Take off that necklace."

His hands went straight to it, no hesitation, and unsnapped the delicate chain. He held it in his palm and looked questioningly at the Lord Marshal.

"Now you." He spoke to Dame Vaako, and she protested.

"But..."

Riddick frowned, and the two Hellhounds still sitting at his feet rose, growling low and dangerous. She hurriedly removed the Torian with Cylus’ symbol on it, but still got her revenge by letting it fall from her hand to the floor. It was a sign of utter disrespect, and Riddick didn’t need any advisor to tell him that.

"Pick it up and give it to him." His voice was low and angry - Wulia didn’t dare disobey. She scooped up the tangled chain and nearly threw it at Vaako, who caught it deftly. "Now give her that one."

Vaako didn’t try to gain any superiority over her by treating her Torian shamefully - he was as good as divorced, and the relief let him be generous. He placed it politely in the palm of her hand. Her eyes narrowed hatefully at him, and he wondered why. He’d left her with some dignity, hadn’t he? He wasn’t as well versed in the elite court rituals as she, and mostly ignored her instructions - he had no idea that by refusing to respond to her insult he left her looking spiteful and unrefined. It was an innocent move worthy of the most crafty of courtiers - the nobles present openly sniggered at her.

Riddick ignored them, and her. His eyes were on Vaako, measuring him. The Hellhound was still at his side, and the man was unconsciously leaning against the beast. The Hound looked utterly content at this fact, rubbing its massive head gently against the black armored thigh. Vaako’s pale face was whiter than he’d ever seen it, deep black circles under his eyes and lines of weariness drawing the fine bones into sharp relief. He looked thinner than the last time he’d seen him - although it was hard to tell with the bulk of his armor and the thickness of the clothes he wore beneath it. The Necromonger scars on his neck were a deep, angry red, and shone in the dim lights with a sheen of clear liquid. He’d quickly learned that such were signs of a very recent Purifying, and he frowned. He could tell the man was having a hard time standing, let alone paying attention.

"Vaako." He forced the dark hazel eyes to look at him again. "Which of these men would you choose as your Second?"

The question was completely unexpected - Vaako blinked slowly at him for a moment, then his eyes skimmed over the Commanders assembled.

"Troan." He said, no hesitation in his voice, settling his gaze on the third in Command under him. He was a stellar officer, whose men followed without question. He’d wanted him as his Second of Commanders before, and Zhylaw had refused.

"And if you were me, who would be your Chief of Advisors?"

That question took Vaako a half-second longer to answer - his eyes went straight past the assembled Advisors, who were glaring at him, to alight on a tall, slim man standing with the High Nobles. "Lord Garen."

Riddick’s goggles turned to the man he indicated, seeming to measure him. He gestured to one of the Hellhounds, and it prowled across the room to the man, a picture of deadly grace. It circled him, snuffled at his robes, put out a sandpaper tongue to barely taste his hand - then stalked back to the high Throne and sprawled in its former position. Garen had stood completely still, wide-eyed, through the whole ordeal; Riddick gave him a single short nod of approval.

"Right, then. Lord Garen, my Chief of Advisors, and he’ll appoint the rest as he sees fit." There was a gasp of outrage from Lord Tarlow, the current Chief, but a single look from Riddick quelled him. "And Commander Troan..." He paused a second, and gave Vaako an amused look. "My First of Commanders."

Vaako didn’t respond audibly, even when Wulia gave an amused snort and Troan’s face became a struggle between awe and sorrow. The man was the closest thing to a friend Vaako had, and he knew he felt that way. He’d been expecting to lose his place, it wasn’t a big shock to Vaako.

Riddick seemed very amused at his reaction, or lack thereof. He wasn’t done speaking.

"I had plans for you, Cylus Vaako." He got up from the throne and walked in a slow circle around the man, his movements almost cat-like in their grace. He grinned at the Hellhound watching him. "Those have changed a little, now. I think..." He paused, and turned to eye Wulia with more amusement. "Take her, have her sent to the Scarab." He gestured to the guards, and they hurried to obey.

Wulia shrieked - the Scarab was the lowest of the low-class transport ships trailing along in the mothership’s wake. She would rather Riddick kill her than send her there, and he knew it. "Take her, and make sure she’s put to work." Wulia tried to plead, tried to beg - was ignored, and the guards had to drag her away, screaming and twisting in their hold. Vaako watched her go with blank dark eyes.

' _Too much, too much is happening. I can’t_...'

"You." The voice was low, almost next to his ear, and he jumped. Riddick chuckled. "You go and sleep. You look more dead than usual. We’ll talk about my nice new plans in the morning."   
  



	3. Chapter 3

Usually he went from sleeping to wide-awake in an instant. This morning he was awake long before he realized it, staring at the ceiling through slitted, heavy eyelids. When his brain finally decided that his body was awake, he yawned.

"You should really cut down on the Purifyings." An amused voice remarked and he sat straight up, staring at the Lord Marshal, who was draped across a small chair next to the bed. He seemed too big for the tiny room, filling it up until Vaako was sure there was no air left inside. He’d chosen to return to the small soldier’s quarters. It was more fitting for a common Commander - he wondered if it was wrong to feel relieved that he was such again - and he really hadn’t wanted to deal with the splendid rooms overflowing with his wife’s - ex-wife’s - belongings.

Riddick was staring at him and he gazed back, too astonished at seeing the man here to care if he was being rude. The lights were turned down low so the Lord Marshal could keep his goggles off. Vaako wondered if it were day or night. There was no way to tell - all his belongings seemed to have vanished, including his small clock. He opened his mouth to ask the man where his things were when there was a sudden surge of motion from the floor at the foot of the bed, and a very large Hellhound was nearly in his lap. The bed creaked warningly, and Riddick chuckled.

"She’s been waiting for you to wake up."

Vaako stared at the beast, round-eyed, and looked back to his leader. "W-waiting?"

Riddick leaned closer, his silver eyes sly. "I think she’s taken a liking to you, Vaako. Funny, don’t you think? They only want to eat everyone else. Wonder what’s different about you?"

"Nothing." Vaako said quickly. "How long did I sleep?"

"Twenty-seven hours. You know, I had some techs scan the records, there have only been three Necros, ever, who had three Purifyings in one week." He leaned even closer, and Vaako tried to ease back a little. Not an easy feat, with a lap full of heavy armored cat beast. "The other two died after the third one. So I had ‘em check your record against everyone else on this boat. You’ve got the highest Purification record of any one person on board. Why is that, Vaako?" He stretched out a hand, and for a moment Vaako thought he was going to touch him. Those fingers fell on the Hellhound instead, rubbing at the base of its pointed ears.

Vaako did not want to answer that question. _Never_  wanted to answer that question - so he tried changing the subject. "Why do they call them Hellhounds? They look like big cats to me."

"Yeah." Riddick, surprisingly, let the subject change slide. "Some idiot had no imagination, I guess. But Hellhound kinda has a ring to it, you know? Hellcat - good, but not quite the same. And they got instincts, like a wolf pack. Don’t act much like cats beyond stalking and purring. Why didn’t you get mad, when I took your position away?"

The abrupt question caught Vaako slightly off guard, and he answered before he thought. "I was expecting it."

"Why?"

‘ _No way out of this one_.’ "Because - because it was I who brought her here."

Riddick didn’t pretend he didn’t know what Vaako was talking about. "Yeah. You did." And his voice told the other man that was _all_  that would be said about that subject.

For now.

The Lord Marshal got to his feet and motioned to the Hellhound, which gave a grumbling growl of displeasure but obediently jumped down from the bed. "Get up." He told Vaako. "You need to eat, get cleaned up. Got a lot to do today." Vaako gave him a questioning look and he laughed. "You’ll see." He picked up a bundle of dark cloth and tossed it into the other man’s lap. "Go on, shower, change. Eat something, then meet me in my chambers." And he was gone, out the door, and took all the air left in the room with him.

 

*

 

Vaako was dressed and heading for the High Chambers ten minutes later, having opted for swallowing nutrient pills instead of ordering food. He felt better after his rest, more alert, his body alive again and humming with some of his old energy. He felt lighter than usual as he walked, but that was due to the clothing. His armor hadn’t been in the room and the clothes Riddick had tossed at him were not his usual thick, muffled garments. They were silk, black as midnight and alien to him in their lightness. They were cut with severe plainness and had only the tiniest bit of embroidery at collar and cuffs, done in silk thread a shade lighter than the rest of the outfit. He felt strange, almost naked in such clothes.

Well, at least it wasn’t the heavy, rich stuff Wulia had favored. He _hated_  those outfits.

He slowed as he reached the doors to Riddick’s chambers, but the guards outside didn’t hesitate. They nodded their heads respectfully and opened the doors. Vaako frowned a tiny bit and walked quietly inside. The main room of the Lord Marshal’s chambers had been changed from a pretentious little audience parlor to an informal conference room. A long, low table was ringed with chairs pulled out at haphazard angles. The cold metal floor had been covered with a thick, deep rug. There were other, more comfortable chairs tucked into quiet corners. It was certainly not the kind of room he’d expected Riddick to have and he just stood in the shadow of the doorway for a moment, staring.

Riddick, Garen and Troan were sitting around the table, the two Necromongers sitting at respectful attention while Riddick was sprawled with his usual easy grace. The others had their eyes firmly fixed on their Lord, but Riddick was watching him, amused yet again. The lights were low, just enough for the others to see while allowing Riddick to dispose of his usual goggles. Vaako gazed at those disturbing silver eyes for a moment. He’d been careful not to look at them in his quarters earlier, but he couldn’t seem to help it now. There was just something about the gleam they had in the low light that made him wonder what they looked like in total darkness -

Vaako realized the turn his thoughts were taking and pulled them to a screeching halt. He had to wonder if Riddick was a mind reader when he heard a low chuckle. The Lord Marshal gestured for him to take the chair on his right side and he walked silently forward and dropped down into it. A data pad was placed in front of him, planet specs on the screen. He took it and read it, keeping his mouth shut and waiting to hear exactly what the others were discussing.

They were discussing an invasion.

Not the usual kind - no ‘convert or die’ mission, no blowing up the planet once they were gone. Riddick was being adamant about this and it surprised Vaako how easily Troan and Garen were falling in with his wishes. It was against the most basic of Necromonger precepts to leave humans alive and not converted!

' _Not that you really care_...'

‘ _I told you to shut up,_ ’ Vaako told the little inner voice and dragged his attention back to the data pad. Riddick had proposed giving the people on this planet a choice - and it would probably work. It was an extremely overcrowded, poor planet. If Vaako had lived there he would have jumped at the chance to get away. Wasn’t that really why he was here now? Taking the easy way out... that unsettling little inner voice was taunting him now. Always taking the easy way out, giving in to the Necromongers who conquered his homeworld, giving in to Zhylaw, giving in to Wulia, giving in to Riddick now when he didn’t even know why he was here.

' _And not about to ask_.'

For once he agreed with the little voice. There was no way he was going to question the unknown plans Riddick had for him - he might not want to be here, might not want to be around the Lord Marshal, but he _did not_  want to die by reminding the man again of the death he was responsible for. Not today, thank you.

"There will be trouble with the nobles, when they realize you do not intend to convert all," Garen was warning Riddick, his voice anxious. "They cling the hardest to our Religion."

"Why is that?" The gravelly voice was casual, but Vaako could hear the underlying curiosity.

"I..." Garen frowned a little. "I know not." The silver eyes went to Troan, who shrugged. They turned to Vaako, who sighed and spoke.

"The nobles have attained their positions through strict adherence to the guidelines of our Religion. Without it they have nothing, no power and no place. It is not the same for the soldiers." Riddick didn’t quite look convinced. He turned back to Lord Garen.

"Do you agree?"

"Mmm... yes. I hadn’t thought of it that way, but it’s true. There is no need for the nobility without the Religion - they are our spiritual leaders, clergy, if you will. I - it’s different for me. I was taken as a child and adopted by a member of the nobles, I didn’t have to fight and claw and cast others out as heretics to get my place."

Back went the silver eyes to the pale man beside him. "You’re a Lord?"

"I was promoted to my place. As was Troan and some of the other Lords."

Riddick looked thoughtful for a split second, then he grinned. "Well, it’ll make things fun around here, huh? We’ll see what the stiffs do when there’s nothing for them to fight each other over."

Lord Garen actually chuckled and Troan looked amused. Vaako stayed still, wondering if Riddick really knew just how much trouble he was going to get. He hoped he kept a Hellhound with him, there were going to be a lot more daggers than usual aimed at that broad back.

' _And this worries you, why? You’ll be safer if he’s gone_.'

‘ _But the Necromongers won’t. We need a strong leader. Zhylaw’s weakness would have lead us to destruction sooner rather than late_.’ Nothing could live without change, without growth, especially not a civilization. The Necromongers would have been weakened from the inside out by his fears and the way he tried to rule others by playing on their own weaknesses. It would have only been another year or two before the soldiers started rebelling, before the techs began to sabotage their own work. Vaako had seen tiny signs of it - it was why he’d given in to Wulia so easily. He did not love the Religion, but he couldn’t help but care about the people under him. Weak, yes, but a weakness he’d learned to live with.

Riddick was strong, and Riddick was bringing much-needed changes to their faltering race. The strength the other worlds saw was a shell, a front. A cancer had been eating them from within - perhaps its growth would be cut off now.

"You’re thinking too hard." There was that low purr in his ear again, a warm gust of breath against his own cooler skin.

He kept himself from jumping by the barest margin and settled for glaring at the Lord Marshal instead. Riddick grinned, turning away. A menial brought in a tray of fruit and the other men settled down to work, discussing plots and maneuvers while they snacked on apple and peach slices. Vaako ate a few grapes and was occasionally asked for his input. His replies were short and to the point and seemed to surprise Riddick a little. He smirked inwardly - why did the man think he’d been made First of Commanders? It wasn’t because he was a fool.

After about an hour Riddick yawned and stretched. "Enough. Be ready to move tomorrow morning." His tone was dismissive and the other three men stood.

Troan slanted his eyes at Vaako, seemed to get whatever confirmation he was looking for and spoke the ritualistic words Vaako had said to Lord Zhylaw too many times to count. "I will bring honor to your name as I lead your followers to battle."

Riddick nearly laughed. "Yeah. Whatever - is that what you always say? I’ll be doing my own leading."

The other three men stared at him. He gazed calmly back, biting into another apple slice and chewing casually.

Finally, Garen found his voice. "It is not - fitting, for the Lord Marshal to be personally involved in a battle..."

"Forget that. Think I’m going to let them have all the fun? He gestured toward Vaako and Troan.

"But if one of the enemy injures or..."

"Then you’ll have a new Lord Marshal, won’t you? C’mon, don’t tell me you like being all safe and boring waiting back on this tub? Where’s the fun in that? I’m going soft letting all these people do everything for me."

"It’s only been a week!"

"Six days too long." Riddick growled, getting to his feet. "Enough, no more arguments. Go on, get to work. Want everything ready in the morning."

"Yes, Lord Marshal." All three men bowed their heads respectfully and turned to leave.

Riddick shot out a long arm and caught Vaako. "Not you. You stay."

Vaako stared at him yet again, then sat back down. Riddick grinned and grabbed a data pad, started pursuing some files and ignored the other man. Vaako waited for a while in uncomfortable silence, then grew bored himself and looked for something to occupy his attention. He’d already seen and studied everything in the room. He shifted in his chair and felt the still-alien sensation of silk whispering across his skin. He ran a finger up his left forearm slowly, marveling at the texture of the strange new clothes.

His heart nearly leapt out of his chest when another, longer finger followed the same trail, coming to rest in the crook of his elbow.

"Feels good, huh? Better than walking around in that thick shit you usually have on. Don’t know how you could breathe in that stuff." Riddick leaned back in his seat and laced his fingers together behind his head. He looked remarkably comfortable in his own scant tank-top and worn leather pants.

‘ _Far cry from Lord Zhylaw_.’ Vaako compared the two again, thinking of the elaborate ceremonial robes the last Marshal was fond of wearing. "Where _is_ my ‘thick shit’?" He asked, remembering the barren quarters he’d woken up in that morning.

"In your new quarters," came the casual reply. Riddick was studying the ceiling with remarkable intent, as if he expected to find the secrets of the Underverse there.

"And where would those be?" Softly spoken.

Riddick jerked his head toward the corner of the room.

Vaako turned and saw a small doorway there - he knew that _hadn’t_  been there the last time he’d been in these chambers. What-?

"Go ahead and look, but make it fast. I’m going to review the troops. You’re coming with me."

Vaako decided he might as well just paste a startled expression on his face - it seemed to be the order of the day. He got up slowly and went to the new door, opened it and walked inside. The chambers were good-sized, neat and well-furnished. There was a small outer room leading to a bedroom, a nice bathing room with a sizeable tub opening off of the bed chamber. Most of his belongings were laying on the bed, waiting for him to arrange them as he wanted. He was glad to see that his elaborate court garments were not there, nor any of Wulia’s things. He didn’t care where those had gone, so long as he never saw them again.

"C’mon," said a deep voice behind him. "We’re leaving. You stay with me."

"Yes, my Lord. For today?"

"We’ll see." Riddick’s reply was vague and as they left the chambers for the soldiering levels, Vaako never saw the smug look on his Marshal’s face.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The air in the great soldiering Hall was thick with anticipation. Vaako, standing just behind the Lord Marshal’s right shoulder, took a deep breath of it and went on full alert. He’d expected this. He looked at Troan, trying to communicate his concern to the younger, less experienced man. Lord Troan frowned back at him, realizing something was going on but not sure what. Troan had never seen the soldiering halls after a high-level fight. They were rare and none more high-level than a battle for Lord Marshal. A battle won by the challenger - this was not going to be an easy inspection.

Riddick was silent for a moment, gazing out over the assembled troops. Finally, "One of you want to tell me what’s going on?"

Lord Troan looked slightly lost and Vaako spoke quickly to save his friend some face. "It has been a week since you Challenged for Lord Marshal."

"I didn’t ‘challenge’ for anything. Just wanted to kill that..."

"Yes." Vaako didn’t care if he was interrupting. "But they see it as a Challenge. And it was won by the Challenger, so they are charged."

"Charged?"

Vaako smiled, a slightly hungry gleam coming into his eyes. The vast wave of emotion coming off the troops was getting to him. "Yes, charged. If you could win your fight, then perhaps they can win theirs. And with the Lord Marshal watching? Today is a day for Challenges. Even more so, since their ritual Purifying would have been yesterday. They have had a month to relearn their basic emotions."

Riddick grinned, his eyes sweeping the troops again. He took out his goggles, settled them into place. "So there’s going to be fights today, hmm? Anyone going to Challenge me?"

"Unlikely." Troan spoke this time. "They don’t know enough of you to risk that yet. Still, it may happen - I would recommend you staying on guard."

"Always on guard." Riddick’s voice was more chuckle than words. He moved forward, down the broad steps and into the troops. Vaako and Troan flanked him as he walked, their eyes alert for danger. The rank Commanders stood at the front of their units, bowing respectfully as he went past. For the first few moments nothing unusual happened. It was the same as any troop inspection. Riddick had already done three. He was beginning to look disappointed when there was a sudden burst of motion among the troops ahead.

A member of the ranks had Challenged his Sergeant - the two men settled into the middle of a suddenly-formed circle of soldiers. Riddick stopped and watched, his face expressionless and the black goggles hiding any emotion in the silver eyes. Vaako realized he was watching his Lord more than the fight and mentally chastised himself, forcing his wayward attention back where it belonged. The fight was brutal and bloody, the two men fairly well matched. It was over quicker than he expected, a knife blow to the heart ending things. A newly-made Sergeant stood gazing down at his opponent, then jerked off his insignia and added them to his own uniform. The troops around him murmured the appreciation normal troops would have shouted and he moved into his new position with his expression smug.

"Now it will increase." Vaako said softly. Riddick didn’t look at him, but he knew the man was listening. "The Challenger won in the first battle. The rest will take it as a good omen." His words were proven true even as he spoke them - three fights burst into existence around them, more spread across the Hall. Riddick watched the battling men with his lips curled into a feral smile. Troan exchanged a quick glance with Vaako - both realized their Lord Marshal would love to get in on the action himself.

Troan swallowed and spoke, his voice cautiously low.  "Lord Marshal - you cannot Challenge. They must come to you."

"I figured that. Doesn’t leave me a lot of fun."

Vaako’s eyes were on the men milling around them and he spoke his next words absently. "It can be arranged for you to spar, if you wish." He frowned at a big Captain who was eyeing them in return and nearly missed the reply.

"I wish. Who’s going to spar with me?"

Damn the man, he was doing it again! Those words were warm against his skin, the lips almost touching his ear. He nearly yelped. "A-anyone you desire."

That got him a low chuckle. "Oh, yeah? Well then, how good are you at sparring?"

Vaako never got a chance to make his surprised brain form a reply - the burly Captain suddenly roared out a wordless Challenge and flung himself at them. They automatically assumed he was after Riddick and as a result Vaako was knocked completely off his feet when the man dove at him instead. He twisted and rolled and barely managed to avoid a knife thrust, getting to his feet in the middle of a hastily formed circle of soldiers. He registered the fact that Riddick and Troan were part of that circle and exactly where they stood. Then his attention was firmly fixed on the big man coming at him.

‘Very big man.’ He thought, amused for some reason. The Captain was a full head taller than him and broader than Riddick. He was armored and had a long dagger in his hand, more strapped to his arms and legs, while Vaako was wearing thin silk, no armor and had a single small blade on his hip. He slid it out and wrapped his fingers around the familiar hilt. As the man charged at him again he spared a quick thought of gratitude that he’d slept so long - if this Challenge had occurred the day before he would have been an easy kill.

He dodged the knife blow and landed a hard hit with his fist against the man’s unprotected jaw. The Captain snarled at him and swung his knife around in a vicious arc. Vaako moved like quicksilver, eluding the deadly edge and coming up under the man’s arm to land another blow. This one hit the nose and shattered it, drenching the man’s face and chest with blood. He gave a roar of rage and pain. Moved for him again, trying to catch the slim, elusive figure with the sharp edge of his dagger.

Vaako slid aside, landing a blow against the thick wrist that sent the knife clattering to the floor. The Captain jerked another out of its sheath and lunged again. Vaako twisted away from a blow aimed for his heart and the blade cut a shallow path across his chest, leaving a thin line of blood. He smiled at the man, hazel-green eyes contemptuous. "Is that the *best* you can do?" He asked softly, taunting the man into deeper, more thoughtless anger.

He avoided yet another wild blow and circled the man, cautious and measuring. There was little chance he could end this fight with his knife - the soldier was too heavily armored for him to get the small blade into a vital spot. Well, there were other ways to take care of this. As the bigger man moved towards him again he ducked and rolled, coming up behind him and landing a sharp blow on the back of the neck that sent the Captain to his knees. He hit him again, knocking off the heavy helmet and sending the man forward to catch himself on his hands.

"Yield?" Vaako asked quietly, giving him an honorable way to end the fight without dying. The man glared at him with an ugly expression in his eyes, but nodded. Vaako accepted the surrender with a graceful nod of his own and turned away. He found himself looking straight at Troan, saw the First of Commander’s eyes go wide and instinctively dropped to the floor. The Captain went sailing over him, the knife that would have torn through Vaako’s back clattering against the floor as the man slid across it in an awkward heap.

Vaako leapt back to his feet, his eyes flashing fire. ‘ _Dishonorable_!’ His thoughts screamed the word but his mouth stayed closed. He didn’t have to say it - the other soldiers were backing away from the Captain with sneers on their faces. The man had tried to attack after an open submission. Even among Necromongers such a thing was disgraceful.

The Captain lumbered to his feet, his face twisted in fury. "I _will_  defeat you!" He shouted, moving faster than Vaako had thought a man of his bulk could.

Caught slightly off guard, the smaller man managed to avoid the knife but not the fist that followed it. It landed hard against his chest, knocking him several feet back. He landed solidly against someone, someone who didn’t stagger at the blow but caught him, strong hands balancing him easily. Someone not wearing armor - Vaako didn’t even have to guess who it was.

He didn’t have time to look - the Captain was heading in for another try. Vaako hoped it would be forgiven as he used his sturdy Lord Marshal for a makeshift springboard, throwing himself right back at the charging man, spinning slightly as he leapt and driving his knife home between the plates of his armor. It sank through the man’s right shoulder in a completely disabling blow - the arm went limp below it, red dripping from the gloved fingers as he jerked his blade free. Both men hit the floor hard and both came right back up, panting and glaring at each other.

The Captain clutched his last knife awkwardly in his left hand. Vaako held his own slippery blade tightly as they circled yet again. ‘ _Doesn’t this man know when to quit_?’ Vaako found a slight bit of admiration curling in his chest despite the scandalous move the man had tried earlier. They dove at each other as if at a signal, slamming together and rolling across the floor. The men watching could barely tell what was happening - suddenly Vaako was holding the man down, one knee on his wounded shoulder and the edge of his knife cutting a thin line of blood across his throat.

"Yield?" He spat the word this time, giving the cur an almost unheard-of second chance. Vaako admired courage wherever he saw it - that the man would continue to fight as badly wounded as he was made him more redeemable in the Commander’s eyes.

The deep-set blue eyes staring back at him were full of rage and he thought the answer would be no. Then they flickered over him and the rage changed to a sudden dawning respect. He opened his mouth and the reply nearly made Vaako slit his throat in surprise.

"I serve you."

"No!" Vaako shouted, jumping back from the man and staring down at him.

"Freely spoken, Vaako." Troan said calmly, moving up beside the startled warrior.

"No." Hissed this time, Vaako still staring at the big Captain, who gazed back at him with now-quiet eyes.

"Freely spoken and proper, Vaako." Troan’s voice was warning - Vaako swallowed hard. He had to accept this, he could do no less with all these soldiers watching. It would be as dishonorable as the false surrender had been. He nodded his head curtly to the sprawled soldier.

"Go to med bay," he said cooly and turned away. He stalked through the soldiers, who gave way respectfully around him and took his place at the Lord Marshal’s side again.

"You could use med bay yourself." The words were spoken easily.

Vaako looked down at himself, seeing with surprise that his shirt was plastered to his left side with wetness. He had been wounded and never realized it. It was part adrenaline, partly the slight numbness that still remained from the Purification.

"He got you while you were rolling around on the floor with him." There was a trace of amusement in the other man’s voice now and Vaako scowled.

"I will go later."

Riddick shrugged and finished his inspection with astonishing rapidity. Vaako’s fight seemed to have calmed the atmosphere - there were no more battles. As soon as the inspection was finished Troan went to make his report and Riddick started stalking down the hall, giving Vaako one telling look that he took to mean ‘follow me or else.’ He decided against risking it and went along obediently.

Riddick led him straight to med bay, where a medic ‘tsked’ over his side and cleaned the small knife wound. "No real damage, no vitals hit." The man said cheerfully, addressing his words to the Lord Marshal, who was leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest, apparently completely unconcerned.

The medic sealed the wound off and spread a cream across it that Vaako knew from experience would have it half-healed by morning. The gash across his chest had bled rather freely but was little more than a scratch. More cream, another ‘tsk’ at the spreading bruise from the punch that had been landed on him and Vaako was free to go.

Riddick led him back to the High Chambers, where Lord Garen was waiting with blithe greetings and a meal. They ate in silence for a moment, then, "What did it mean?"

"My Lord?"

"‘I serve you.’ What did that mean?"

Vaako scowled down at his plate and didn’t reply.

Lord Garen grinned at him. "Did you get a dog, Vaako?" 

The Commander shot him a venomous look that seemed to amuse him.

"What’s it mean?" Riddick growled, losing patience.

"I assume there was a fight?" Garen got a nod in reply. "And the man said ‘I serve you’?" Another nod. "Then he has surrendered, completely. Vaako ‘owns’ him now. A completely loyal guard who will protect him at the cost of his own life. You must have made a good impression, Vaako."

Vaako grumbled a little and bit into an apple viciously. The other men grinned at him and he scowled harder. The last thing he wanted was a guard like this, someone who would follow him around, always in the distance and forever vigilant. They usually ended up troublesome, those men, deciding what was dangerous for their ‘Master’, frightening the people around them - oh, who was he kidding? It was the obligation that was turning his stomach. He didn’t want to ‘own’ a personal guard! Everything the man did or said would be his responsibility, his charge and his concern. He would have to provide for the man as well, clothes, shelter... the man wouldn’t eat unless he remembered to give him permission.

' _I do not need this_.'

He continued to glower at the table while Riddick and Garen discussed the fights, some of which Garen had watched on a monitor. Vaako’s own fight was purposely not spoken of. They then moved on to the reaction of the nobles over the announcement of how tomorrow’s battle would be conducted. Some of the words Garen repeated seemed to cause Riddick no little amusement. Vaako held his peace until Lord Garen finally excused himself, then he spoke in a rush.

"You’ll have to watch your back."

"What now?" Riddick arched an eyebrow at him. The goggles were gone again.

"The nobles - they’ll be plotting hard against you. They’re not all weak. Some of them were soldiers once, others are trained to fight so they could Challenge higher nobles."

Riddick smiled and leaned toward him again. "You’ll have to watch my back, too, huh?"

Vaako’s adrenaline was still running high after his battle and he spoke without thinking. "What exactly do you want of me, my Lord?"

Riddick leaned back in his seat and eyed him, humor flashing through the shining eyes. "Want what I got today. Someone at my back, telling me what I need to know but everybody else forgets or thinks I know it already. Someone not afraid to give me their opinion. Want someone who’s a good right-hand man."

He couldn’t have been expecting Vaako’s reaction.

Those words drained the adrenaline from Vaako’s veins, sent his heart plummeting like a stone to the bottom of his stomach. ‘ _He can’t mean that - he can’t know what that means_!’

"M-my Lord... please do not call me that." He was supremely thankful that Lord Garen was gone - he could imagine the glee the man would jump on those words with.

Riddick looked startled, staring at him. "Never thought you could get any whiter than you already were. What did I say?"

"..."

"Vaako. What did I say?" The voice was edgy now.

"Right Hand." He was reluctant, but Riddick could have the data pulled up if he didn’t tell him. He might as well get it over with. At the man’s questioning look he kept going. "The Right Hand of the Lord Marshal. It’s a title that hasn’t been used in a long time. It means - it’s a sort of combination position."

"Combination of what?"

Vaako sighed. "Guard. Advisor. Companion. Someone who takes care of everything that you do not need to be concerned with, from orders to the tailors up to commanding the nobles. It is... only used for a man."

Riddick’s eyes were fixed on him with a strange expression. "And you don’t want it?"

"...no."

"Why?"

Vaako tried to look at him and found he couldn’t. His eyes slid away from that intense gaze. "It is more responsibility than I desire."

"You _desired_  to be Lord Marshal!"

"I did not! I desired a strong leader for our people! I was just as pleased when..." He cut himself off. ‘ _Idiot! Shut up while you can_!’

"When I killed Zhylaw?" Riddick was looking amused again. He leaned forward, gleaming eyes fixed on the ashen face. "I think you’re leaving out something. What is it?"

Vaako squirmed a little under that gaze but shrugged, shaking his head.

"C’mon, I know there’s something." A light seemed to go on in Riddick's head. "Title’s only used for a man, huh? What would they call the position if I wanted a woman to do all that?"

Vaako sincerely wished he could hide under the table - he _knew_  he had to be blushing.

"H-high Consort."

Riddick laughed, threw himself back in the chair. "Left out something _major_  there, Vaako."

The other man flushed harder and stared steadily at the table. "You see why I do not wish you to call me that?"

' _Really_?'

"Really?" 

Gods, the man _was_  a mind reader! He was reading Vaako’s irritating inner voice! He just sighed and fell forward, letting his forehead *thunk* against the table. Riddick snickered and leaned close again, once more bathing Vaako’s ear in warm air.

"Too bad, Cylus Vaako. Because that’s exactly what you’re going to be called."

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because when I posted this on Aff.net, I got blasted for being 'cliched' - Vaako is not a Furyan and I don't intend to suggest such.

He stared.

Kept on staring, while Riddick grinned at his astonishment. 

"Y-you cannot be serious..." He tried, even as his memory dredged up something Wulia had said during her final screaming fit. ‘He has even taken a Lord or two...’ He hadn’t paid the slightest attention to that at the time. He looked back to Riddick, whose grin was getting wider.

  


"This... is not a joke?"  
  


"Joking’s the _last_  thing on my mind." Riddick arched in a full-body stretch, arms reaching for the ceiling, showing off his lean, muscular form to full advantage. It put a few things in Vaako’s mind - he felt his face growing red _again_. Riddick’s grin turned smug. He leaned forward and cupped Vaako’s cheek in his hand, stroking his thumb along his cheekbone. "Like it when you blush," he rumbled, his voice deep and low.

"Obviously." Vaako tried to keep his voice dry while he felt his cheeks get warmer, but he wasn’t sure he’d kept the tremble out. The shine of Riddick’s eyes confirmed that he’d failed.

The big hand shifted until Riddick’s fingers were drifting down his neck.

"How well can you feel this?" He asked, silver eyes watching Vaako’s face closely.

The hazel-green eyes that looked back were open and honest. "Not well. It is rather like wearing several layers of clothes."

"Goes away after a while, huh? If you don’t go through that damn Purifying chamber? You start feeling things again."

"Yes. The effects fade with time. That is why the Law of Mandatory Purification was made, to keep us strong."

"I don’t think stopping’s going to make _you_  weak. Takes a month, right? You said the soldiers’ were relearning their basic emotions."

"I... yes, for most it is a month."

Riddick frowned.  "But not for you. Because I can make you blush - and you just had a Purifying two days ago. So you must feel something." He paused for a moment, frowning while he continued to stroke Vaako’s cheek and throat. 

As distant as the feeling was, his Right Hand couldn’t help but lean into it - it had been so long since he’d been touched with any kind of affection. Wulia - well, no one would call her touches affectionate. Devouring, maybe. Not the good kind of devouring, either. He looked at Riddick, who was studying a data pad now, calling up information with his left hand while the other continued its gentle caresses. He wondered what being devoured would be like if it was his Lord -

\- and his brain came to a screeching halt again. _‘Idiot!_ ’ He swore at himself. He was about to start putting too much into a physical situation.

"I was right - embarrassment is listed in the basic emotions. Three to four weeks to relearn. What’s going on, Vaako? Why are you different?" Gleaming eyes were fixed on him again.

Vaako wasn’t blushing now. He knew his face was ghost white. He gulped in a breath of air and tried his morning tactic again. It had worked then!

"W-where are the Hounds?"

Riddick scowled at him for a moment, his eyes measuring. Finally, "In the inner chambers. Not ready to wander around on their own yet. Why?" His voice turned amused. "You missing Protega?"

"Pro...?" Vaako was confused.

Riddick got up and opened the door to the inner rooms. An instant later and Vaako was eye-to-eye with the female Hellhound who’d tried to fit in his lap that morning.

"Protega." Riddick said, scratching behind her ears again. She started the deep rumbling purr-growl and nuzzled at Vaako’s arm. He put out a hesitant hand and rubbed an armored cheek, wondering that she felt it. But she did, the purr got louder.

The Lord Marshal laughed. "She definitely likes you best." Another of the Hellhounds had its head in Riddick’s lap and he turned his caresses to it. Protega didn’t seem to mind. She sat beside Vaako and put her head on his thigh. The other Hellhounds were milling around the room, investigating the corners and occasionally coming to sniff at Vaako or be petted by their master.

"I’m not going to let you keep getting away with that, you know."

The statement brought Vaako’s head up sharply. "My Lord?"

"Always changing the subject when I want to know about your Purifying addiction. You don’t trust me yet, do you?"

"I..." Vaako paused, green eyes worried. "I am loyal, but..."

"Loyalty and trust are two different things. I’ll wait a few days, Vaako - but you’d better get ready to tell me."

"Do you trust me?" Vaako wasn’t sure where the question came from but considered it only fair.

"The more I learn about you, yes. Funny, huh? Figured I’d have to kill you, thought you’d be after my hide for a rug." Riddick grinned again, a predatory smile. He leaned past Protega and slid a hand slowly up Vaako’s arm. "Glad I had cameras on you. It woulda been a shame to kill something so beautiful."

Protega purred. She seemed to like a blushing Vaako, too.

 

*

 

Commander Troan waited outside the door for the guards to announce him. When he was given admittance, he entered the room but then stopped dead, facing a snarling Hellhound instead of the man he’d expected.

"Easy." The Lord Marshal’s voice calmed the beast and it moved away, still keeping its glowing eyes on his face. He went forward warily, trying to watch all the beasts in the room.

"I thought there were six?" Troan asked, counting them.

"There are. One’s with Vaako."

"Oh." Troan was curious, but wasn’t about to ask. He might not have Vaako’s experience or quick mind but the other Commander had a personal naivete most Necromongers lost instantly. Vaako thought about himself so rarely that it always seemed to astonish him when *others* paid him any attention. If it hadn’t been for Dame Vaako he would have happily remained a rank Commander for all his days. Troan and Garen, however, had realized Riddick’s interest in the dark-haired man as soon as he and his former Dame had been called to the Judgement Chambers. "I was told you wished to speak to me about the invasion plans."

"Yeah. Let’s wait for Vaako - I sent him to get cleaned up. His clothes were still bloody."

"Ah."

Riddick motioned him to sit down, then folded his arms on the table and studied him. "You known Vaako a long time?"

"He trained me. I was converted ten years ago and he was my first Commander."

"What’s with this Purification record?" Riddick slid a data pad in front of him.

Troan studied it and shook his head.  "I don’t know. I’ve wondered about it sometimes - Vaako has always been Purified at least once a week. He was taken as a child, I know that, but his homeworld records don’t exist." Riddick raised a questioning eyebrow and Troan shrugged. "I was curious. I looked, but they’re just not there. There were only seven others taken on the same date as him, and they’re all dead. Lost in battle..." He paused. "Or died in the Purification chambers."

 

*

 

Vaako felt infinitely better after a shower. Although there were several of the silk outfits hanging in his new wardrobe he chose to put on the simplest of his old thick clothing. It was a shirt and pants of a dull grey-black shade and gave him a comforting sense of normality. He felt in desperate need of it after today. Protega was lying across his bed and grumbled at him in greeting when he came out of the bathing room. She preceded him back into the Lord Marshal’s first chamber. Troan was sitting with Riddick at the conference table when he came in and both men looked at him sharply, like they were measuring him. He kept his face calm while wondering wildly if he’d done something wrong.

Neither mentioned any such thing - Riddick waved him into a seat and he picked up a data pad. They went over the final details of the invasion, then sat discussing matters of the army; number of soldiers, strengths, weaknesses and training plans. Vaako soon realized that Riddick was antsy about something - he was beginning to pick up on his Lord’s moods. He wondered what was going on, but the man apparently wasn’t going to mention it in front of Lord Troan. He wondered if he’d tell him once the man was gone.

Troan finally excused himself about thirty minutes later. Vaako waited for Riddick to speak, but he just sat staring into space, scowling slightly and stroking the head of the alpha Hellhound, a huge male that refused to let any other lay its head on the Lord Marshal’s lap.

"What is that one’s name?" Vaako tried to distract Riddick from whatever was bothering him. Right Hand of the Lord Marshal included companion, after all, and he wouldn’t be much of a companion if he let his Lord sink further into whatever dark mood was possessing him.

"Rage." The word seemed to break down the walls of silence he’d built up. "I don’t want you going through any more Purifications. Understand?" Whatever Vaako had expected, it wasn’t that.

' _Anything but that_!'

"M-my Lord, I... I can not..."

"No more." The words were sharp, a definite order. "I don’t care why you think you have to have them. I want you back to whatever normal was for you, before you got scooped up by this insane horde. Do you even remember what normal is?"

Vaako looked down, shaking his head mutely.

Riddick scowled. "Didn’t think so. Gonna find out. Want you to _feel_  it when I touch you. Want you to feel it right. How long does it take you to get over it?"

"About six days. Sometimes seven." Vaako’s voice was low. Riddick looked surprised.

"Quicker than I thought." He chuckled, relaxed again. "Gives you four more days to get ready, doesn’t it?" He quirked an eyebrow at the smaller man, waiting for his blush. He grinned when he saw it and just as quickly went back to solemn. "I really mean this, Vaako. Stay away from the Purification chambers. Don’t want you dead like the others."

Vaako stared at him.

"Got a little more info about you. Do you remember your homeworld?"

"No."

"Hmm. Remember the others who were taken with you?"

"No." There was an odd quality to his soft voice, almost hopeful.

"They’re dead." Riddick said, quiet. "You and me are a little alike. Last of our kind, whatever that is. Know anything about Furyans?"

Vaako shook his head. "Lord Zhylaw kept all information about Furya and its inhabitants closely guarded. I do know there were not supposed to be any males left, and that very few females still existed." He gazed solemnly at Riddick. "Do you want to look for them?"

"Would they be on Furya?"

"I think the planet is uninhabited. Most of the people fled to escape Lord Zhylaw’s slaughter raids."

"Why didn’t he just blow the place like he did everywhere else?"

"I do not know for certain, but I believe that he had hopes of any refugees returning, so he could discover them and have them put to death, as well."

"Sounds like him. Come here."

Vaako’s eyes widened in surprise, but he obediently got up and moved closer. Riddick put two big hands on his slender waist and tugged him over until he was standing between his thighs. Rage snuffled in annoyance and stalked away, going to where Protega still lay by Vaako’s chair and curling up beside her.

Riddick smiled up at his captive. "Wearing your thick shit again. Can you feel my hands?"

"Distantly." It was still enough to make his heart pound.

"Tell me if you feel them any stronger." Riddick ordered softly, and slid them up his sides, moving gently over the knife wound. He explored Vaako’s slim torso thoroughly, stroking his ribs, his flat stomach and sweetly muscled chest. He rested his hands on the broad shoulders and asked the question with his eyes.

Vaako shook his head slowly. He was becoming slightly less upset about being denied his Purifications - he had _never_  been touched like this and he desperately wanted to feel it.

Riddick’s hands slid higher, exploring his neck again and for the first time they brushed the Purification scars. A sudden sharp sensation, almost-but-not-quite pain flooded through Vaako’s nervous system. He gasped harshly and his legs turned to water. Riddick caught him and eased him onto his lap. He lay weakly against the strong chest and stared up at the silver eyes staring back down at him.

"Felt _that_  pretty damn good! Hurt?"

"N...not ...really..." Vaako’s entire body was faintly shuddering. Riddick smiled and stroked his hair, a touch so tender that Vaako was shocked again. Tenderness was certainly unexpected. Riddick held him until he stopped shaking, then pulled another chair over and reluctantly set his Right Hand in it. Vaako swayed slightly.

"All right?" Riddick got a nod for a reply. The pale man visibly pulled himself together.

"What was that?" Riddick asked, tilting his head and watching him intently.

"I do not know. That never..." He went silent.

"Haven’t you ever touched your scars? Didn’t your wife ever touch them?"

"Yes. They - I do not feel..." Vaako was at a loss for words, and instead moved his fingers over the round scars, showing that he got no reaction when he touched them himself. "Sensation is a little stronger on them. I can feel touches more clearly here. But what happened now - that has never happened before..." His hazel eyes were cloudy with confusion and an emotion Riddick couldn’t quite put a name to. Before either could continue, there was a knock at the door.

"What?" Riddick shouted, irritated.

A guard opened the door cautiously and leaned inside. "Pardon, Lord Marshal. Captain Yur is here."

"Who?" Riddick continued to scowl.

"Captain Yur. He is Lord Vaako’s Honor Guard."

Riddick looked questioningly at Vaako, who groaned softly and slumped in his chair. "The Honor Guard. The Captain I defeated today. I had almost forgotten about him."

"What are you going to do with him?"

"I can not _do_  anything with him. He will have to stay with me for now. Any less would be dishonorable in the eyes of the soldiers."

"So - where will you put him?"

"He will sleep in my outer chamber for now. If I was still staying in my Commander’s quarters he would sleep outside the door." Vaako was scowling enough to match some of Riddick’s expressions.

"Really don’t want him, do you?"

"Honor Guards are usually troublesome. Even if they are not, I have no desire for a shadow, for someone who goes everywhere I go." Riddick was looking faintly horrified. "What?"

"Everywhere?!"

Vaako was so annoyed by gaining his new servant that it began to be funny - especially that question - and for the first time Riddick saw him truly smile. Vaako didn’t notice the captivated look on the bigger man’s face.

"He will not follow me when you... when you want..." Even with the smile he blushed. He felt like a pitiful teenager again and he didn’t care for it. Of course, it wasn’t like he had much experience at being with a man - all right, no experience - but it couldn’t be _that_  different. Could it?

Then again, remembering the faint feelings Riddick’s hands had caused, maybe it would be very different.

' _Maybe... it would be better_.'

He blushed again.

 

*

 

Captain Yur decided three things very quickly. He did not like the dim chambers, he did not like Hellhounds, and he did _not_  like the Lord Marshal. Realizing that the smaller Commander had defeated him, and defeated him _wounded_ , had caused an instant fierce devotion in the huge man. He watched jealously as the silver-eyed breeder stroked Vaako’s intricate braids with a possessive hand. The two men had greeted him cooly and then ignored him, discussing the need to replenish the ranks after the losses on Helion.

The Hellhounds had milled around him, clearly disturbed by his presence and snuffling at him. His scent seemed to make them all snarl with disgust but they kept coming back again and again. He really wanted to kill one of them. Maybe then the rest would leave him alone. When they got too pushy the Lord Marshal would call them off but he never ordered them to back down. Yur was sure he could - and that made him like the man even less.

Now the other two men seemed to be preparing to retire - they were speaking in very low voices but Yur’s hearing was sharp. It was a characteristic of his race, and even when one was taken by the Necromongers and converted, you didn’t lose your intrinsic abilities. He felt no guilt whatsoever at eavesdropping. Wasn’t he supposed to protect his Master at all costs? One never knew what information would become useful.

"Four days is going to seem like a long time." Riddick murmured as he stroked the silky hair again.

Vaako flushed and darted a quick look at his silent Honor Guard. "If... if you do not wish to wait..."

"You won’t object? Obedient little follower, aren’t you?" He leaned closer, doing the ear thing again, knowing it drove his Right Hand crazy. "Want you to enjoy it, too." He smirked as Vaako’s cheeks got redder - the shades of pink color on that delicate white face was a thing of beauty. He glanced over at Yur, who was lurking in the deep shadows. He wondered if the man thought he was hiding from him. He could see his expression even more plainly since he was in the dark - apparently Vaako’s Guard appreciated the soft blush, too. Riddick scowled. "Take Protega with you."

"My Lord?"

"Take her with you. Want you to sleep well. Anyone sleeps better when they know they’re safe."

"You don’t have to protect me."

Riddick smirked again. He knew Vaako would barely feel it, but he put his lips softly against the man’s ear as he replied.

"Always protect what’s mine."

Ah, yes. Who would have thought _pink_  would become his favorite color?

 

 

 

***************************************************

AN: ‘Protega’ is pronounced ‘Pro-tay-sha’, a corruption of the French word for ‘protector.’


	6. Chapter 6

The planet was cold and had an odd smell, like stagnant water in a metal bowl. There were buildings everywhere - not a single bit of open space as far as the eye could see. Grey buildings, towering up to the greyer sky. Everything was grey - grey dust like a thick covering over every surface, grey papers swirling in the wind down the empty streets. The place looked like it had been frozen in a moment of time - empty transportation vehicles, doors to houses gaping open, shoddy merchandise from shoddier businesses strewn in the streets. The scans had shown this planet overcrowded to the point that the inhabitants could barely move, yet not a soul was seen. Not a sound was heard, not a whisper of movement.

"What the hell is this?" Riddick asked softly, goggles sweeping over the abandoned square in front of them. The researchers had decided the ostentatious building in front of them was the either the palace or the seat of the government, and they had planned their landing site accordingly. It had probably been expensive to build but it had fallen into decay. Delicate moldings hung sagging and broken, windows had cracked or shattered glass in bright colors. Everything was as coated with dust as the rest of the city.

"Send the lensors out." Troan called to the soldiers. "There _were_  people here, find them!"

The soldiers moved obediently away, walking cautiously through the debris as they hunted for signs of their quarry. The hunched forms of the lensors led the way, their handlers following behind them. They searched until they were completely out of sight without a single one calling out in discovery.

"The other landing parties have reported similar conditions." Troan said, turning away from his communicator. "Deserted dwellings and not a sign of people anywhere."

"Maybe they hid when they saw the comet? Have the ships scan for caves or underground shelters."

Troan turned away to follow the Lord Marshal’s orders. Riddick took advantage of his preoccupation to jump down from the landing ramp and walk into the streets.

Vaako was right behind him.

Riddick glanced over his shoulder at the other man and grinned. "Can’t shake _you_ , huh?"

"You are the one who decided I would be your Right Hand."

Riddick laughed. "C’mon, then. Let’s have some fun while they do the boring stuff." He darted down a side street, Vaako hard on his heels. "Where’s your shadow?"

"I set him guarding the ship. His patrol has taken him to the other side."

"So we’ve lost him, too?"

Vaako nodded and Riddick grabbed him suddenly, swinging him around to push his back against a grey brick wall.

"Good."

Then warm lips were pressed over his in a completely unexpected kiss. Surprise made Vaako gasp and Riddick took full advantage of the parted lips. When he lifted his head a moment later he left the other nearly reeling from the sensation of a clever tongue exploring every part of the warmth of his mouth.

"Feel that?" It was a husky whisper against his cheek.

He couldn’t find his voice, only nodded in reply. Hands drifted up his arms, past his shoulders, to cup his face.

He hadn’t felt much on his arms and the single piece of armor that he wore, a chestplate, kept him from feeling anything on his shoulders. But the warm hands on his skin he _felt_ , closer to real sensation than he’d had in years.

"Better?"

"Y-yes."

"Good." Riddick let him go and turned his attention back to the business at hand. They ghosted through the empty streets, keeping to back alleys as much to search as to avoid the Necromonger patrols that would want to accompany them. Vaako soon saw his Lord relaxing like he had never done on the ship. Well, this was good for him then. He’d remember - there would be other planets he could explore.

 _'And you will explore right beside him_?'

‘ _Of course. What sort of companion would I be not to_?’ He was honestly beginning to wonder about himself - did everyone else have an inner voice they argued with?

 _'Just to explore_?'

‘ _I enjoy exploring_.’ He wasn’t fooling himself. It was slowly dawning on him that he’d follow this man anywhere, whether he’d enjoy it or not. He’d always been frightened of being too alive, ever since he’d learned what would happen to him if the other Necromongers found out... well, found out what he was. Riddick’s words about some things being worse than death echoed in his mind and he wholeheartedly agreed with them. But being alive, alert, able to feel was slowly losing its terrors - especially when he thought of the new rewards it would bring.

"You’re blushing again." Riddick turned from his examination of some rubbish to grin at him.

' _I have_  got _to learn to control that_...'

 

*

 

Hours of searching through empty buildings and filthy alleyways netted them exactly zero. When they went back to the ship - and a silent but visibly pissed-off Troan - they found that no one had discovered anything. Not one single soldier or lensor had the least bit of a clue as to the disappearance of billions of people.

Riddick kicked back in the pilot’s seat of the small ship they’d used for landing. "Are there other races like the Necromongers that I don’t know about?"

"Not in any of our records," Lord Troan said quietly.

"No sign of disease, no bodies." Riddick scowled. " _Something_  happened to these people! When was the last scan taken that showed life down here?"

"Yesterday morning," a tech replied, her eyes scanning the screen in front of her. "After that, no scans were run until this morning." The pre-invasion scans had shown the abnormality and Riddick had insisted on landing, anyway. He’d wanted to see what was going on and no one in his new council blamed him. They were all curious.

Riddick ordered the planet info and scans on the main screen and began discussing them with the techs. Vaako and Troan settled at a nearby command table, going over data pads and reports to look for anything they’d missed. Any area not searched, any possible hiding place overlooked. They weren’t having much luck.

Yur was lurking in the entryway, trying to watch everyone at once and Lord Vaako in particular. He’d been none-too-pleased at being ordered on guard duty and even less pleased to learn that his Master had vanished along with the Lord Marshal. How was he supposed to keep his promise of serving the man if he didn’t even know where he was? It was all too irritating. He didn’t plan on letting it happen again.

At least they hadn’t brought those damn Hellhounds along.

 

 

*

 

They gave up searching when twilight started falling over the empty city. Lensors were placed at strategic points on rooftops, continuing their futile scans as the soldiers set up base camps near the ships. It would not be a comfortable night for them - the thick grey dust that coated this planet was happily coating them, as well. All the ships and equipment were being cleared of it in rotation, but the soldiers had no way of removing it from their person. Most had devised scarves and torn bits of clothes into makeshift breathing filters. The dust was intent on invading even their lungs. The Lord Marshal had ordered a supply of portable breathers to be sent down in the morning. Landing here at night was not an option. There were too many obstacles, with the crowded buildings and the thick electrical cables. All the current landings were occupying the very few empty town ‘squares’ they had found.

They also had guard duty to deal with, in shifts of twenty around each camp. It was more than possible that this was some sort of intricate trap. An attack at night on soldiers who thought the city was empty would be a brilliant move. Too bad for whoever might have planned it that Riddick was the Lord Marshal now. He knew every possible trick that could be played. It was, as he’d laughingly said, what he would do himself.

Vaako shifted a little in the cubbyhole he’d found. Riddick had ordered the leaders on the same watch as the ranks. He’d taken the first himself - Vaako was slated for the second. The ones not on watch had scattered to find someplace to rest on the admittedly small scouting ship. They hadn’t expected to be on the surface overnight, so the ship they had taken did not have sleeping quarters. Vaako had found an abandoned tech station in a small dead-end corridor. It was set back into the wall and the dark padded chair looked comfortable enough for a quick nap.

He found he was having trouble going to sleep - he didn’t like this planet, with its eerie look of abandonment. So many things were normal, pots of cold food left on stoves, a book open on a table with reading glasses nearby, little glasses of alcohol on the counter in a bar. It was like the people had run out to look at some curiosity and any moment they would step back to continue what they were doing. It left him unsettled.

He didn’t like the feeling. It was getting so close to real emotion. Over the past two days he’d felt anger, embarrassment, nervousness and _whatever_  that surge of emotion was when Riddick had stroked his scars. If things were normal he’d be running to the Purification chamber. But he wasn’t allowed to do that, had been so clearly ordered not to do that...

He shifted again, feeling antsy as he tried to remember the last time he’d missed one of his weekly Purifications. Before or after he’d been married to Wulia? Before... yes, definitely before. He wouldn’t have risked it afterwards. He tried to remember what it was like to go without them and couldn’t quite grasp the memory. It had been so long, years. He counted up the days since his last session. One day arguing with Wulia and being called to the High Chambers, one day lost sleeping - one incredibly long day with the fight and being called Right Hand... was that just yesterday? Then today, exploring this insane planet. Four days.

"Two more, then." He whispered into the darkness, wondering if he’d really have that long. It seemed to him that he remembered sensations setting in earlier, building up to the explosion on the sixth or seventh day. He sighed and forced his mind away from his worries. He had to get some rest. He stared at the wall across the corridor and tried to count the rivets in its smoothly made surface...

 

*

 

He came out of sleep with a sharp gasp and the sensation of a crushing weight on his chest. Wide hazel eyes stared up into the blue ones of his Honor Guard. Yur was looming over his chair like a foretelling of doom, one arm stretched out towards him. Vaako’s eyes followed it down to where the man’s fingertips rested lightly on his armor - not even beginning to be enough to cause the heavy pressure he felt.

"What?" At least his voice sounded calm.

"It is time for your watch shift."

Yur didn’t move his hand and Vaako reached to push it away. He very nearly cried out in relief when the pressure vanished and he could breathe normally again. Yur eyed him oddly and he wondered if he’d managed to keep all of that relief off his face. A second later and he was distracted by yet another odd sensation as he stood - it felt like there were a million tiny creatures buzzing over his skin.

_‘Sensation_ .’ The thought vaguely surprised him. It was earlier than he expected, the tingly feeling of numbed nerves coming back to life. He slowly tugged his slightly twisted clothing back into place. He would have enjoyed yelping at the almost-pain of friction from the material against his now hyper-sensitive skin. It set the million bugs to buzzing sharply, but he swallowed the sound before it could even start. Yur was already staring at him in a way that made him more than a little uncomfortable. He wondered what the man was thinking of his strange reactions.

' _Just please let him keep his thoughts to himself_?'

Vaako strode past his Guard, heading for the control room. He paused just inside the doorway, watching the activity with surprise. When he’d left there had been a few techs doing routine scans, Riddick and Troan discussing plans for tomorrow’s sunrise and a few soldiers involved in mundane tasks. Now every tech aboard was at their station, chattering excitedly about some scan. He watched for a moment, then moved to where Riddick was leaning over a consol, staring at a screen.

"What is it?"

"Watch this," was the only reply.

He obeyed, and saw a wide view of the planet they were on. The digital stamp on it told him it had been taken sometime yesterday afternoon. He waited and saw the briefest flicker across the screen before it returned to normal. He frowned.

"What was that?"

In reply, Riddick touched the replay controls, slowing the scan down to a crawl. This time Vaako saw it clearly, a light blossoming softly from a small spot on the lower side of the planet, spreading to cover the whole sphere in a second that would have been no more than the flicker of an eyelash in real time. Then it dissipated and was gone. Vaako turned questioning eyes to Riddick, who shrugged.

"They haven’t figured out what it is yet," he gestured toward the excited techs, "but they’re enjoying themselves trying."

"Not... an explosion?" Vaako answered his own question with a shake of his dark head. It couldn’t have been, all the buildings were still standing, all the possessions were still in the houses, the merchandise in the stores. Nothing was disturbed, let alone damaged. Only a few vehicles parked where they obviously shouldn’t have been, a few shops looking like someone had stopped in the middle of looting them.

"No." Riddick agreed quietly, his eyes sweeping over the man beside him instead of watching the screen. Slightly wrinkled clothing, tousled hair and eyes heavy-lidded with sleep... beautiful. He leaned closer and lay a hand on one shoulder.

The reaction he got was instant and unexpected. Vaako jumped, a soft hiss escaping from between his teeth. He controlled himself before any of the techs noticed. Yur saw but kept silent, a strange glitter starting in his blue eyes. Riddick stared, pulling his hand back.

"I... I’m sorry." Vaako spoke the words too low for anyone but his Lord to hear. "I... it almost hurts."

Riddick frowned at him. "Hurts?"

"Yes. No. Not really, it is just strange. Sensations are coming back to me, but they are very strong. It has been a long time since I have felt - anything."

"Ah." Riddick’s glowing eyes took on a predatory gleam. "Starting to feel again. How - _nice_."

Vaako rolled his eyes in a vain attempt to stop himself from blushing. He had no idea how the man could get so much meaning into one little word.

Riddick gave a very un-leader-like snicker and turned back to the screen. Vaako looked back too, and they both watched again as the strange light enveloped the planet and then vanished.

"Where is that?" Riddick asked as the video played yet again, putting a finger on the spot where the light first appeared.

"A small subsection of city about three hours from here," a tech replied, pulling up a lensor scan of the area on her control screen. "It appears to be a residential area." The scan showed small, well-built houses, better kept than the buildings in the city. A few even had small window boxes of scraggy little flowers. On a planet almost completely covered with buildings and asphalt, dirt must have been a precious commodity.

"We’ll go there in the morning." Riddick’s deep voice growled. "If that’s where it started, that’s where we’ll find some answers."

 

 

*

 

 

Troan and Vaako spent their watch planning tomorrow’s route to the small subdivision the techs had dubbed ‘the Source.’ It _would_  be a good three-hour trip - there was no place to land the ship. It would follow them and hover to provide some protection - they did have the Lord Marshal with them, after all. If an emergency occurred, they would blast a landing spot.

Riddick should have gone to rest. Instead he wandered around the control center, pent-up energy rolling off him in waves. He went back and forth between the techs, the Commanders, and his pilot’s chair. He seemed to find more than a little amusement in teasing Vaako - whenever he leaned over the small table to see what they were doing, he made sure to touch him somehow. Brushing against his arm, reaching for the same data pad so their hands met, leaning around him to grab at some information and laying a strong hand on the small of his back.

Vaako tried to distract himself from the rush of sensation by thinking how immature his Lord was behaving. It didn’t work very well.

He was caught between disappointment and relief when Riddick finally left the control room. Troan grinned a very knowing grin at him and Vaako’s eyebrows drew together.

"What?"

"You know he announced that you were his Right Hand?" Troan’s grin got wider when Vaako turned white - well, whiter - then red. Troan hadn’t been Purified in twenty-seven days, and his old, teasing personality was beginning to come through. Apparently, Vaako was a little embarrassed at the fact that the Lord Marshal had claimed him. Troan was already planning some future fun at his quiet friend’s expense. Right now he would limit himself to whispered teasing. It would be beneath the dignity of the First of Commanders and the Right Hand of the Lord Marshal for the techs to hear him baiting Vaako.

"You haven’t been to a meeting of the High Nobles, have you? Not since Wulia was shipped off?" Troan knew Vaako had ended up despising the wife who had pursued him and his tone was disdainful. Vaako wouldn’t mind.

His friend shook his head.

"Nor have I... but you should ask Garen about the last one." At the other man’s puzzled look, he continued. "Seems the ladies of the court liked seeing you walking the halls in black silk." Vaako blinked. "Some of the lords did, too. Never knew you were such a heartbreaker, Vaako." He finally got a ‘fun’ reaction - Vaako narrowed his eyes and hissed in annoyance.

"Shut up."

"No. You’re too much fun." Vaako was now glaring at him, but there was a newly-born twinkle in his eyes. It wouldn’t have been noticeable to anyone else, but Troan knew his old Commander too well to miss it. He was glad to see it - he’d always wondered if Vaako had a sense of humor hidden anywhere under his grim exterior. Seemed he had. Tiny, crippled, and malnourished, but it was there. Troan could work with that. He grinned again.

Vaako gave him a wary look and found something to do on the other side of the room.

 

*

 

Yur was getting angry. He had, of course, been assigned to the same watch as his Master. Since he was an Honor Guard, anything else would have been unthinkable. He had to watch over his chosen Master. That was the way it was.

Yur had always enjoyed being a Necromonger. He loved being a member of the most powerful race in the universe. He enjoyed taking over worlds, converting more humans to their way of life. He always made sure he was on a viewing deck when they blew up the planets as they left.

It was a very beautiful sight.

Not as beautiful as the one before him now. He narrowed his eyes as he watched his Master walk across the room to a different console, away from the First of Commanders. He didn’t like the way these others treated the man. First the Lord Marshal, daring to touch Lord Vaako. The other didn’t want it - Yur had seen how he’d jerked, flinched away. Now Lord Troan was bothering him, with his low whispers and leering smiles. The Guard’s hearing hadn’t been _quite_  good enough to make out what the man was saying, but Vaako’s glare in return had told him it hadn’t been welcome.

Yur considered offering the man his assistance but discarded the thought. It would only embarrass his Master if he asked permission to kill the ones who were bothering him. He wouldn’t take dignity away from the man - he still remembered the second offer of ‘Yield?’ with a sense of awe. He had heard of that happening in Necromonger fights - twice. He knew that the men who’d been given the offer had accepted it in the only honorable way possible - to offer to serve the victor.

As he watched Vaako stretch gracefully to reach the top buttons on the consol, he was glad he’d remembered the words that bound him to this man. A sudden feeling of eyes on him made him look sharply to the left. Lord Troan was gazing at him, his face unreadable. Yur frowned and shifted, his eyes going to his Master, then back to the First of Commanders. There was a warning in the other man’s eyes and he bristled. Before he could even think of what his next move should be, Vaako walked back to Troan and spoke.

"Our watch is over." Lord Troan snapped out of his glaring game and smiled easily at his friend.

"Good. I could use some more sleep." The two men walked together toward the corridor. Yur trailed along behind them, still watching.

 

*

 

Vaako separated from Troan and ordered Yur to find himself a place to rest. The man gave him an almost sulky look but obeyed, moving further down the twisting hall. Vaako went back to the little secluded tech consol and stopped short when he found Riddick already occupying the chair.

"Knew this was where you slept." The gravelly voice greeted him, a smirk gracing the man’s lips.

"How?"

Riddick replied by lifting his chin and breathing softly through his nose. "Smells like you here."

"Smells like...?" Vaako trailed off, sniffing the air himself and unable to detect anything. He turned his head and took a quick sniff of his shoulder, wondering what exactly Riddick meant. He wasn’t startled when he felt a hand touch his other shoulder. He was beginning to get used to how fast his Lord moved.

Riddick smirked at the dark-haired man and leaned closer, watching the hazel eyes grow wide as his face stopped just short of touching Vaako’s cheek. He sniffed softly, just enough for Vaako to hear what he was doing, moving down the side of his neck, across the muscular chest, back up the other side until he was eye to eye with his Commander. "You smell warm. You used to smell cold." He sniffed again, moving to almost nuzzle the man’s ear. "Smell like those grapes you like to eat. Smell like silk and leather and armor oil." The smaller man was almost trembling now. "You smell like - you. I’ll always know this smell."

Vaako swallowed hard, turning his head to look in his Lord’s eyes. Riddick took quick advantage of the move, slanting his mouth over Vaako’s soft lips. The other man nearly moaned at the action, feeling a warm wet tongue slide between his lips. He remembered the taste from earlier - Riddick might remember his smell but he would never forget the unique taste of the other man’s mouth on his. Strong hands moved to cup his face, thumbs sliding along his prominent cheekbones.

"Feel it?" The words were a harsh whisper against his lips.

"Almost." Almost, almost - he _could_  feel it if his skin wasn’t still buzzing with awakening nerve ends.

Riddick sighed and lifted his head. "Almost. Tomorrow?"

"I think... yes. I think so." Vaako wasn’t sure how he managed the words. He saw raw hunger in the Lord Marshal’s eyes and spoke quickly. "It - it is already more sensation than I have felt in years. If you want... it will be enough for me."

The silver eyes glowed brightly at him and for a moment he thought his offer would be accepted. Then Riddick shook his head. "Vaako, Vaako. Always eager to please. This ain’t going to be a one-time, means-nothing thing. Understand that. So I want it to be _right_. It’s not going to be all about me." He moved back to the chair and pulled his surprised Right Hand down on his lap. He unbuckled the armored chestplate and let it drop to the floor. "Do you need to sleep?" Vaako shook his head mutely. "Good. Then tell me."

The other man froze.

"Vaako." Riddick put his arms around the slim waist and linked his fingers together, trapping the man in his lap. "I’m not going to let you go. Not going to send you away. Tell me."

Dark green-grey eyes studied him for a moment. Vaako thought back over the last few days, remembering how different they were from what he had expected. Remembered his surprise at realizing his Lord wanted him, more surprise that he was willing to wait for Vaako’s numb body to wake up and hadn’t just taken him anyway. Remembered how he had flouted the Necromonger’s most prized precepts, ignoring the nobles and their strait-laced Religion. Maybe if he told his long-guarded secret he would be still be safe.

' _Maybe I can trust him_.'

He sighed.

"I... I do not remember my childhood, before I was converted. I know I was perhaps ten when I awoke from my first Purifying." He paused, still wondering if he was wise in sharing this. Riddick’s eyes gleamed at him, focused on his face. He could tell the man was listening to more than just his words, was weighing his tone and his body language. "I was different. I do not remember how I knew. The first Purifying leaves you numb for nearly three months. When the effects began to fade, others began to look at me... oddly."

"Why?" Nothing but interest in the deep voice.

"Because - because I knew things about them that I should not have known. I did not realize, at first, that I was different and that they could not - read - me the way I read them. The ones I was sharing quarters with were children, too. It was a good thing for me - they knew as little about the Religion as I did. I started hiding my... my differences from them but it was for the usual childish reasons. No young one enjoys being different from his peers, and the first thing they taught us was that Necromongers were all the same. A new convert is a fanatic for the race and the Religion - I wanted to be like everyone else. It was a good thing. It saved me." He paused again, trying to judge Riddick’s reaction, but the handsome face looked mildly interested, nothing more.

"Saved you from what? Death?"

Vaako nearly smiled, shaking his head softly. "There are worse things than death. If my - talents - had been discovered I would have been made a Potential. Would still be made a Potential." There was a soft plea for secrecy in the last sentence, though he didn’t speak it aloud he knew Riddick understood it. He didn’t get a reply and he didn’t wait for one.

"Potentials are rare and highly prized. They are studied in solitude by the acolytes, the priests, and if their talents remain true..." He hesitated, swallowed, and continued. "If they remain true, they are Promoted."

"To...?"

Vaako’s eyes shut briefly. "To Quasi-Dead."

"To Quasi... what are...?" Riddick sat up straighter, his arms tightening around the man in his lap. "You mean those screaming freaks that try to turn your brain inside out?"

Vaako nodded, looking anywhere but at the man who held him. "It is a highly-treasured part of our Religion. A great honor. Anyone with such gifts should be eager to acknowledge them. To become a Quasi-Dead is one of the ultimate ways to serve the Lord Marshal and all of the Necromonger race. But... I..."

"Don’t want to. And I don’t blame you." Riddick’s voice was rougher than usual with shock, but he was already recovering. He grinned slightly and shook the man he was holding. "Are you telling me you read minds?"

"What? No!" Vaako protested. "I do not read minds. I read... I sense emotions. Not much right now, the Purifyings dull my - talents - but by tomorrow I will be... you remember how I reacted earlier, when you touched me?" Riddick nodded. "It will be worse than that. I have not felt in so long - the Purifyings... kept it all under control, so I would not betray myself. I found it difficult not to react to strong emotions and thus give myself away. When I discovered that the ritual made the uneasy ‘differences’ vanish I volunteered for more and more of them. Perhaps I became slightly immune, for it would have killed most. Perhaps it is just an idiosyncracy of my race. I do not know."

"Think it was just you. They took seven others when they took you - must’ve been a little planet. Three died in battle but four died from Purifying. That’s why I won’t let you go anymore. They must have figured out it helped them hide, too."

Vaako sighed, still waiting. He knew Riddick would have to say something else about this. As prized as Potentials were, even Necromongers felt uneasy around them.

But his Lord Marshal was grinning openly at him now.

"So they would’ve made a weapon out of you. Would’ve been a shame. Do you know why your homeworld records are gone?"

Vaako nodded. "I could not pull them up myself. I did not have such security clearance at the time. My Commander - he never spoke of it, but I believe he had suspicions. He was a good man - for a Necromonger warrior, he was surprisingly compassionate. He very calmly informed me one day that my life ‘before’ no longer existed. I can only assume there was something in those records that would have told a researcher what I am."

"And he took care of it for you." Riddick’s arms tightened again, pulling Vaako firmly against a smoothly muscled chest. "Nice of him. So tomorrow, are you going to freak out?"

"I will be able to handle it if there are distractions. I believe. It has been years since I have allowed myself to go longer than a week without..."

"Without the damn ritual. Yeah, I know. So... an empath. My Empath." He leered suddenly and Vaako tried to pull back, eyes wary. "It’ll make things interesting. Help out a lot, too, now that all these zombies are waking up to real life again. But..." His leer grew more pronounced and Vaako braced himself for the next comment, his head slightly reeling at Riddick’s easy acceptance - at the unspoken agreement not to tell.

"Now I really can’t wait to know what it’ll be like." Vaako arched an eyebrow, sure he knew what the Lord Marshal meant but trying to hang on to his shredded dignity. Not an easy feat, sprawled in the man’s lap.

"What _it_  will be like?"

"Yeah. In bed."

Oh, damn. He seemed to be blushing again.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

He woke up warm, which was unusual. He didn’t have to wonder why - he’d realized before drifting off a few hours ago that Riddick radiated heat - it was like cuddling with a furnace, but Vaako didn’t mind. He’d been cold for too long. The only thing that bothered him was that he’d fallen asleep _still_  sitting sideways on the man’s legs, but Riddick had insisted he stay where he was, long after they’d stopped talking. Tugged Vaako’s head down onto his shoulder and held him, telling him to rest. Sat with one arm around his waist, one hand stroking long black hair, until his Right Hand was almost asleep.

 

Riddick murmured something to him in a low whisper, but Vaako was too far gone to understand it. The last few moments of their conversation had been questions from the Lord Marshal about what happened when one was Promoted to Quasi-Dead - what was the procedure like, what were the rules, was it painful? He’d almost been worried, but the last question had settled him a bit. Riddick had asked how the soldiers - not the court, he’d noticed that - would react if he were to get rid of the Quasi-Dead, just delete them from any of the society’s procedures.

 

He’d told them most would be relieved - they were used mainly as a punishment, searching out the sins of wayward Necromongers and revealing them to the Lord Marshal. Only occasionally were they used to search out a Convert or a prisoner, testing them to see who they were, what their abilities were. He’d always hated them and knew most of his comrades felt the same. They would be no great loss. Riddick had rumbled his approval and told him to rest.

 

As he allowed himself to relax in the surprisingly tender embrace, he’d been able to fight down most of the unsettled feeling of knowing another knew his deepest held secret. If he’d been awake enough to hear the last thing Riddick had whispered to him, he could have fought it down for good.

 

"Can’t ‘Promote’ you to something that don’t exist." A small pause, and a tightening of the thick arm around his waist. "Not going to take you away from me."

 

 

*

 

 

So he’d woken to warmth, a pleasant change from the way he’d woken most of his life. He tilted his head back and gazed up at the silver eyes looking back down at him.

 

"Do you ever sleep?" he asked, sitting up as far as the arms wrapped loosely around him would allow.

 

"Sometimes." Riddick smirked, his gaze wandering down Vaako’s chest and back up. "When I want to."

 

"And when would that be?"

 

"You’ll find out." He lifted a hand, stroked his fingers over the edge of a collarbone exposed by an unbuttoned shirt. Vaako blinked. When had his shirt come undone? He didn’t have time to wonder about it - he made a very pleasant discovery and leaned into Riddick’s touch, humming slightly.

 

"Feel that?"

 

"Yes." The word was an awed whisper - the buzzing sensation in his skin had vanished, leaving him highly sensitive to the faint brushing of those fingertips.

 

Riddick’s grin became absolutely evil.  "Good," he purred, sitting up straighter and sliding his hand completely inside the open-necked black shirt. "Very good. If there was a bed on this ship, I’d call off today’s little march." Vaako was saved from answering by the sound of a ship overhead. Riddick let him go and got to his own feet. "That’ll be the delivery. C’mon."

 

Vaako followed him through the ship and out to watch as one of the smaller transport ships hovered over them, letting down menials and boxes on platforms. The soldiers departed from their normal routine of refusing menial work that they were not specifically ordered to do - they nearly shoved the ragged menials aside to unload those boxes.

 

They were the breathers.

 

Within minutes the camp looked like a chemical warfare zone, almost everyone wearing the odd oxygen filters strapped to their faces. Vaako was sure it was a huge relief from the dust, and willingly accepted one. He didn’t put it on yet, since Riddick had not put his on. The Lord Marshal only held it in his hand, his goggle-covered eyes once more fixed on the ship.

 

Another platform was lowering. Vaako saw why Riddick was still watching after the breathers were unloaded. Lord Garen’s familiar slim figure was standing there - wearing extremely plain clothes for a noble - and three large Hellhounds were standing with him.

 

Garen looked nervous. Vaako almost grinned.

 

As soon as the platform touched down, the Hellhounds were bounding toward them. Rage and the other male went straight to Riddick. Protega, for the first time, didn’t go straight to her Master. She went for Vaako, butting her head against his thigh and insisting that he pet her. She wasn’t satisfied until his fingers were stroking her ears.

 

Riddick chuckled.  "Got a real crush on you, Vaako."

 

His Right Hand just sighed and shook his head, becoming more resigned to the teasing. Lord Garen was grinning at him, too. He hoped that _his_  awakening personality was less... humorous than Troan’s. The look of that grin wasn’t reassuring him.

 

"Why?" he asked quietly.

 

Riddick understood the question. "Figure they can help. They’re good at tracking things down. Lensors just see - Hellhounds can see, hear, smell. Good backup." He was caressing Rage’s broad skull. The other big male was rubbing his cheek against Rage or Riddick, which ever he could get closest to. "Have much trouble?" The question was directed at Garen.

 

"Not really. They seemed to know I was taking them to you. The three we left were more upset."

 

Riddick grinned. Vaako could imagine what those three had been like. He had a feeling the Hellhounds preferred to stay in their pack - and Riddick was Alpha leader of that pack.

 

 

*

 

 

In the shadow of the empty breather boxes, two voices spoke.

 

The first was low and malevolent, the second low from caution.  

 

"Things did not go according to plan."

 

"I can tell that. There is still a chance - you are very close to him."

 

"Yes... but some things have changed."

 

"I can tell _that_  as well. I saw you watching him. It doesn’t change things. The Lord Marshal still has to die."

 

"I will not kill him if it means-"

 

"Fool! You cannot allow your vision to become clouded. If the Lord Marshal dies by your hand, then you get everything you desire. Everything."

 

The cautious one thought for a moment. "Yes. I do. What steps shall I take now, since the first plan did not work?"

 

"I have heard that you march out today, to find what happened to this miserable planet."

 

"Yes."

 

"You will go with them, of course. There will be opportunities along the way. Here is what you will do..." The voices faded lower, the barest whisper of sound. They were risking everything - to be overheard now would be fatal.

 

A moment later, one figure nodded and stalked away. The second lingered in the shadows, waiting until menials began stacking the empty boxes onto the platform to be taken back to the ship. Then it merged into its cover, attracting no notice as it escaped onto the platform and was lifted back to the waiting transport ship.

 

 

*

 

 

Rage stalked onto the ship, silver-red eyes watching his Master, the one he’d decided was his Master’s mate, his own mate and their young, inexperienced son. He wasn’t sure the cub would behave himself and was ready to take him under control if needed. He knew their Master would disapprove if the cub were to eat one of the delicious-smelling creatures here. Too bad.

 

Rage’s desires from life were simple; a good hunt, a full stomach, his mate and cubs with him, his Master and his mates or any cubs he may have well-protected. Rage would protect them. His protection would be just as vicious if one of them were threatened as it would be if Protega or his cubs were threatened. So far only this one seemed to be a mate. He’d quickly learned his scent and saw to it that his Pack did so as well.

 

Now he inspected the control room of the ship while Riddick and Vaako made sure everything was ready for the march. He saw Lord Troan - he did not, of course, think of him by name, but he’d learned his scent from the many visits to their den. Not a mate - perhaps Pack? He would protect him, but only after he knew Master and Master’s mate were safe. He continued his thorough inspection and would have laughed, if he could have, when the techs and menials and some of the soldiers cringed away from him.

 

He loved the scent of frightened prey. He only wished he were allowed to eat them.

 

He stopped in mid-step, another familiar scent filling his nostrils. The deadly head swung around, fire lighting in the shining eyes. Protega and the cub saw him halt and went on alert, scenting the air for the danger he had detected. It didn’t take them long to find it - the big man who had invaded their den before was there again, lurking at the entrance with eyes fixed on their Master’s mate. They had sensed that he was not welcome when he had come to the den, although neither the Master nor his mate had made him leave. And they had not been allowed to kill him even when he had followed the Master’s mate to his den.

 

In the bestial minds of the Hellhounds, such actions - following the mate, watching him from the shadows - could mean one of two things. He wanted to eat the mate. Or he wanted to steal the mate.

 

They would not allow either.

 

It did not lower Riddick’s Alpha status that he did not attack this intruder. Such things were the responsibility of the Pack. Only an open challenge for the mate would be handled by the Master. These underhanded techniques were the Hounds’ concern. Rage took his concerns seriously, and began to stalk the Intruder.

 

The man jerked with surprise when he saw the big Hellhound standing not a foot away from him. Rage was pleased. Obviously he had not realized they were here - Rage had not scented him when they had first come down with the other almost-Pack member. He switched his tail and growled softly. The Master’s head came up sharply, looking to see what Rage was threatening. He grinned, showing his own teeth in a way that allowed Rage to easily see the threat. It was directed at the Intruder, not him.

 

"Don’t think Rage likes your dog, Vaako."

 

The mate looked up, but did not seem overly concerned. "A new scent, perhaps?"

 

Riddick’s grin grew wider - a shark would have appreciated having such a smile. "Maybe."

 

Rage sensed, somehow, that the Master knew what the Intruder wanted, but was deliberately not worrying his mate. That was all right - the mate did not need to be on alert. Protega was with him, wasn’t she? His mate could rip this Intruder to shreds without the slightest effort. She would, too, if he so much as touched the mate. She liked the mate. If Hellhounds were amused, Rage would have found this funny - his mate becoming attached to the Master’s mate.

 

Ah, the Intruder was moving. Rage walked at his heels, the low rumble in his throat never stopping. It was a warning now - if he got too close to the mate it would change. Apparently the Intruder wasn’t stupid - he stopped a respectful distance away and only stood waiting. Rage signaled to his son and the cub moved to flank him.

 

No need to take chances.

 

 

*

 

 

Yur really, really, _really_  hated Hellhounds.

 

 

*

 

The march started off brisk and efficient. Nothing else was acceptable, being Necromongers. They formed marching ranks, scouts and lensors surrounding them, doing recon ahead of them. They searched for danger before the main troops got there. It would have been preferable to keep the Lord Marshal at the middle of the winding column - safe from possible attack - but, of course, Riddick would have none of that. He was on one of the few small vehicles they had brought - a little machine with four wheels and a big motor that would eat up the distance if needed. He rode ahead of the columns of soldiers with a few of the other commanders on more of the ‘wheelers. The three big tanks the transport off-loaded bringing up the rear.

 

 

They were backup, a just-in-case device. Troan had mentioned he didn’t really expect to need them, but they were awesome to look at and would make any would-be attacker think twice. As big as some of the buildings they passed, heavily armored and decorated with twisted spikes of metal and bristling gun ports. Vaako had always seen the enemy back away from them. He was marching with Troan, Protega still by his side. Riddick had growled a bit about the ‘wheeler he was riding having only one seat, but Vaako refused to take another and ride along beside him. The soldiers respected him as the Lord Marshal’s Right Hand because they knew him - if he started taking special treatment and acting more the High Consort he’d lose that respect in a heartbeat. Riddick had seemed to understand this without Vaako saying a word, and gone off to ride his new toy.

 

Rage was loping along beside him - the other Hellhound seemed to be tagging after Yur. That surprised Vaako a little, the creature didn’t seem affectionate with the man like Protega was with him, or like Rage was with Riddick. It was just watching him, an unholy gleam in its fiery eyes. Yur watched it back with open dislike. Vaako was beginning to feel the trickles of discomfort coming from the man.

 

He was beginning to sense a lot of emotions. Eagerness to figure this mystery out - that was coming from Riddick, along with the enjoyment he was getting from revving the ‘wheeler. Caution from Troan - who was monitoring the lensor scans - taking his responsibilities seriously. Anticipation and apprehension that the soldiers were feeling - that any good soldier _should_  feel in such an uncertain situation, not knowing if they were marching to battle or to their doom. And amusement rolling off of Garen in waves whenever Riddick would drive the ‘wheeler close enough to stare at Vaako for a moment, then move on.

 

Vaako knew he was checking on him, remembering what he’d told his Lord about expecting an emotional overload today, but that didn’t help him when Garen snickered after the forth time Riddick drove by. He shot a glare at the man, who just grinned.

 

' _Gods, I never knew Troan had a double_.'

 

That was _exactly_  what Garen was reminding him of - Troan’s teasing from last night, about being Riddick’s Right Hand. He wondered if he was in for more... ah, yes. It certainly seemed so.

 

"Very concerned, isn’t he?" Lord Garen’s voice was low enough not to be overheard, sounding oddly metallic through the breather. Vaako only arched an eyebrow at him. "Now, Vaako - it’s a good thing. You should have been in the Court when we got the announcement. I never saw such shocked looks in my life. You broke a lot of hearts."

 

Now Vaako frowned, eyebrows drawing together. "The ones who wished to be High Consort?" he asked softly, wondering, for the first time, if he would need to watch his own back when he got back aboard the mothership. Protega grumbled and butted her head against his leg as if she could read his thoughts. He scratched her ears absently and she subsided.

 

"Well, a few. But more of them were upset over your being taken." He got a blink for his reply. "Vaako... you surely own one mirror? Didn’t you look at yourself in that black silk? The rest of the Court did, let me tell you. Is the Lord Marshal the jealous type?" Both of them looked at Riddick, riding near the front of the column again - he sensed their eyes and looked back, questioning. Vaako turned back to Garen, who answered his own question. "I suppose I was stupid to ask. A man like that doesn’t share." Some of the humor Vaako sensed was now laced with respect.

 

Well, that was good. He didn’t think Garen was one of the ones he claimed was interested in Vaako - not that Vaako really believed that, the man was just having fun teasing him. But... he was feeling the edges of desire for someone trickling off the man. It wasn’t Riddick, and the only other ones close were Yur - Vaako shuddered at the thought that Garen might want the Captain - and Troan.

 

Troan? Did Garen... he watched the man carefully for the next few minutes, ignoring his subtle teasing, until Troan finished his lensor scans and joined in with some remarks that were not so subtle. He caught Garen giving Troan quick glances while the other was focused on Vaako. Maybe he really did want Troan? Vaako had no idea of Troan’s sexual preferences, never thinking it necessary to ask. If Lord Garen did want the First of Commanders, the man was as oblivious to the other’s desire as he was currently accusing Vaako of being towards the court’s desires. Ah, life was getting too tangled up. He almost wished for a Purification, until he remembered fingers sliding along his collarbone.

 

Good thing the breathers had high metal plates that covered most of your face. It hid blushes.

 

 

*

 

 

They all just stood gazing at the house - an ordinary house, coated in the cloying gray dust and empty. It looked just like all the other houses on the little street.

 

"This is it?" Riddick’s voice was incredulous, but the few techs they’d brought with them were nodding.

 

"Yes, Lord Marshal. All the scans show the light as originating from here." Riddick scowled and stalked forward. His council - Vaako, Troan and Garen - automatically followed. So did the Hellhounds. So did Yur. They entered the small building carefully, but it seemed deserted. There was a large room full of chairs and couches, the walls lined with bookshelves, some small bedchambers and a room for food preparation. The only odd things were the books - there seemed to be thousands, the bedrooms were full of bookshelves, too - and a small, bare chamber with nothing but an oddly shaped low counter, a huge book lying open on it.

 

They did a quick search of the room with hands, eyes, and lensors. It was a room, nothing more, nothing less. The most interesting thing in it was the book - it was so old it was crumbling. The tech they brought shook her head over it. "It is in no language known to our data banks. We will have to discern the terminology, and translate."

 

"How long?" Riddick was short and to the point.

 

"Six hours, perhaps." She was already scanning the pages with a small, hand-held scanner, the information going straight to the mothership. The others began to mill around the house, taking down books and flipping through them, studying odd pictures and the archaic language. Vaako was just as curious as any of them -

 

\- and suddenly he was too curious to stand. Luckily he was near a chair and was able to sit down without falling. His hazel eyes were wide, his breath coming shorter. It was the ‘hit’ he was expecting, the sudden inpouring of emotion from the people in the room. It was beginning to spread beyond the room and beyond curiosity - someone here was sad, someone else was nursing a deep and ugly anger. He felt worry, lust, fear, humor and the soldiers outside were anxious and eager and hungry and happy that the cooking food smelled so good and he was going to be sick.

 

' _It’s just too much_...'

 

He kept his head down, holding a book in shaking hands and pretending to look at it. Protega whined, very softly, pressing closer and he could even feel the anxiety coming from her. Felt the contentment when he rubbed her head reassuringly. He was too overcome to jump when a hand touched the back of his neck, too overwhelmed to respond to Riddick’s low voice. He heard him say something to the rest of the room, his voice casual. Saw the others nod and begin to leave, some going outside and some going into other rooms until no one was here but Yur. Riddick said something to him, as well - some order, from his tone. The man scowled but left.

 

Then Riddick was pulling him out of the chair, voice soothing. Leading him into one of the bedchambers and shutting the door, easing him down to sit on the bed and taking off the breather. He said something else, laughter in his voice. The worry and humor he was feeling hit Vaako like a punch. He nearly reeled and felt strong arms surround him.

 

He didn’t know how long it took him to sort out the barrage of emotions hitting him, to call on long-forgotten skills and separate them, pushing them back to levels he could handle. He slowly became aware that he was leaning against a broad chest, clinging to the Lord Marshal like a small child. He sat up sharply, deeply embarrassed, and looked at Riddick. He didn’t need to feel it to tell the man was relieved.

 

"All right, now? I was wondering." Fingers slid along his cheek and he closed his eyes, unconsciously leaning into the touch. Riddick made an intrigued humming noise. "Does this mean you feel all better?"

 

"Better..." Vaako wasn’t quite sure how he managed the word. There were still traces of amusement and concern coming from the Lord Marshal, but they were barely sensed in the wave of desire that flowed from the man. If this was what Riddick had been feeling for the past few days then he was awed at the man’s self-control - especially when Vaako had offered, several times, to...

 

There were hands on him again, slowly working at the buttons on his shirt. He put his own hands on Riddick’s broad shoulders, tentatively learning the texture of the other man’s skin. Smooth, the muscles underneath like iron. His fingers slid down slowly, exploring the powerful arms, the newly awakened part of his mind registering Riddick’s approval at his actions.

 

He held still, letting Vaako explore for a moment, his own hands sliding inside the open shirt to rest on the smooth skin of the other man’s waist. Vaako bit his lip, still more than a little sensitive to touches but thoroughly enjoying it. He wondered, not for the first time, why Riddick was so careful with him. If anything, he would have expected the man to just grab someone he wanted, throw them down and take them without the slightest concern for their well-being. Obviously he was wrong - there were hidden depths to the man the universe only knew as a hunted criminal. He had expected roughness from the first moment he’d realized the Lord Marshal wanted him and had instead received nothing but gentleness. It astonished him. Especially since Vaako was partly responsible for the death of the woman-child. He hadn’t forgotten that, and he was certain Riddick had not.

 

"Why?"

 

The question was sudden, but Riddick seemed to know what he was asking. "Always had everything rough. Can’t a man want some things to be sweet?"

 

He slid his hands up, matching Vaako’s speed, exploring the leanly muscled ribs and torso with aching slowness. Vaako realized that was all the answer he was going to get. He slid his own hands back up to Riddick’s neck, up further to touch the goggles the other man still wore. He would rather be able to see the silver eyes watching him, but he knew the room was too bright for that. Riddick seemed a bit of an Empath himself - he stood abruptly and let Vaako go, striding to the window and closing it, flicking off the overhead lights. The room was left in a soft state of twilight, shadowed and dim.

 

Riddick sat back down and Vaako put out a hand for him, only to have it caught. Riddick jerked him forward and tangled his fingers into the long braids. "You’re not just reacting to me, are you? Not going on what I want?"

 

A just question, but Vaako shook his head.

 

"No." It was the truth - Vaako was uncertain and had no real idea what he was doing - he’d always held himself aloof from the common conversations of the other soldiers, especially when they’d turned to carnality. He had only the vaguest idea of where this was all leading... but he was rapidly wishing it would hurry and get there!

 

Riddick jerked off his goggles and stared hard at the smaller man, studying his eyes. Apparently he was satisfied with what he saw - Vaako abruptly found himself shirtless and flat on his back, the broad hands exploring his body with more enthusiasm and less care, as if no longer afraid he would shatter at the touch. He lifted his own hands and stroked them down Riddick’s back to the hem of his metallic shirt, tugging at it to ask permission. Riddick grinned down at him and jerked it off, tossing it across the room.

 

Vaako didn’t know how his body shone in Riddick’s sight, glowing beneath his Lord’s hands, drawing attention to the smooth muscles. Unable to resist, Riddick circled his nipples with his fingertips, brushing the hardening nubs with some return to gentleness. Vaako bit back a gasp and Riddick leaned forward to kiss him. He fenced with the other man’s tongue for a few moments, squeezing and fondling his nipples, and Vaako decided to return the favor, getting a growl of approval. This _was_  a little like being devoured, but nothing like it was with Wulia - his mind shied away from thinking of that creature right now, with these incredible new sensations setting up in his body.

 

Riddick smirked, silver eyes catching what little light shone in the window, and he leaned forward, closing his lips around one small, hard nub. Vaako murmured a soft, incoherent encouragement, his fingers leaving Riddick’s chest and going to stroke the smoothly shaven head. He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing to do - oh. Another approving growl settled the slight doubt. Riddick tugged gently on the nub with his teeth, then curled his tongue around Vaako’s nipple, his efforts rewarded by the first audible gasp Vaako made. He left off his work and slid up the man’s body, lips hovering almost against his as he gazed down.

 

The look on his face sent electricity arcing across Vaako’s skin, a shiver down his spine. If he’d ever wondered before, that look told him _exactly_  why Riddick would always be the Alpha of any pack. They’d barely started and already he felt claimed just by the way the man was gazing at him. He would never have thought, before, that being dominated in any way could be a good thing - he had been submissive to Zhylaw’s orders and Wulia’s manipulation but he’d never enjoyed it. Right now he couldn’t find any piece of himself that didn’t like the way Riddick was making him feel as he kissed him again.

 

The big hands were continuing to explore, even as Riddick chuckled against his skin and moved to kiss a path to his ear, nibbling at the lobe for a moment. He seemed to know what Vaako was thinking again - and it seemed to amuse him. His fingers brushed against the front of Vaako’s pants, discovering proof that Vaako was as aroused as he was, and his Right Hand groaned through his teeth, trying to hold back the sound, unable to keep himself from twisting on the bedcovers. A second later and he felt the leather pants he’d chosen sliding down his legs and off to join Riddick’s shirt, followed about a millisecond later by the Lord Marshal’s own leather pants. He ground his hips against the man beneath him and Vaako felt like his brain was melting as their arousals met.

 

"Ask me." It was a gruff whisper in his ear and he obeyed without thought.

 

"Please..." He could only manage the single word - his lungs couldn’t seem to draw in enough air. Riddick didn’t insist further - fingers wrapped carefully around him, a thumb flickering across the tip to tease him mercilessly. He chewed at his lip to keep from moaning, hips bucking until Riddick lay a strong hand on him, holding them still.

 

"Never done this before?" It was more of a statement than a question, but Vaako answered it anyway. Or at least, he tried to.

 

"Not... with..."

 

"Gonna hurt, a little."

 

"..." Vaako wanted to say he didn’t care, but couldn’t make his vocal cords work any more. Instead he reached up and pulled Riddick’s head down, initiating a kiss for the first time. He got his loudest approving growl yet, as Riddick’s tongue mercilessly explored every inch of his mouth.

 

Vaako felt wetness smear his skin where it touched his companion’s arousal, and he unconsciously parted his thighs, then fought back another moan as Riddick reached under and rubbed the sac beneath the throbbing member he stroked. Vaako almost trembled with pleasure. Riddick lifted his head and grinned down at him, now reaching over to the little table beside the bed and coming back with a small bottle of what looked like oil. Vaako didn’t know when he’d put that there and didn’t care.

 

Trust the Lord Marshal to be prepared.

 

Riddick pulled the cork from the bottle with his teeth and poured some of the smooth liquid onto his hands. Vaako watched him mutely as his thighs were stroked softly, then spread further apart and Riddick smoothed oil over the puckered, virgin entrance. He rubbed a slick finger back and forth over the tight ring, watching Vaako carefully as his breath began to shiver in and out rapidly. He wasn’t afraid of pain - but this was a never-before felt sensation, with a body that had gone years barely feeling _any_  sensation. He couldn’t help but be tense.

 

Riddick took his time, allowing Vaako to adjust to the new feeling, then began to slowly press against the muscle. His eyes never left the other man’s as it hesitantly gave, and he pushed one finger in. Vaako’s hands tightened on the sheets. It was... uncomfortable, strange, but not yet painful. Riddick gave him a moment to adjust, dropping his head and mouthing the skin on Vaako’s neck, setting his teeth gently against his throbbing pulse. It amply distracted the man while the intruding finger began to move in and out.

 

He could tell when it began to feel good, and slowly added a second finger. He knew that had to hurt a bit, but Vaako didn’t flinch, not even when he began to scissor them, stretching the man carefully. He ignored his own aching stiffness, determined to keep his promise and make this good for both of them. When Vaako’s hips began to thrust against his fingers he added a third, waiting again for any sign of pain. All he saw was a flicker in those hazel-green eyes - the lean body went still for a moment, then started once more with the movements that were driving the Lord Marshal insane.

 

Vaako was slowly losing his mind, as well - he’d never imagined something like this could feel so good - and then Riddick’s fingers found a place inside him that made his vision turn white for an instant. He blinked up at the man and found a leer directed back down at him. He rolled his eyes - he couldn’t help it. The man looked unutterably smug.

 

"Good, huh?"

 

"Y-yes... more?"

 

That got him another smirk.

 

Despite the request - which he knew was as close as Vaako would get to pleading - Riddick continued to take his time, determined not to hurt the man trusting him so much. When he was satisfied that Vaako was ready for him, he quickly coated his own arousal, then lifted Vaako’s hips a little further. He paused, looked down, admiring the sight beneath him. Pale skin flushed with desire, hazel eyes cloudy with the same emotion, spread out and vulnerable and all his.

 

Vaako stared back up at him, not pleased that the fingers were gone and very much not pleased that the other man was holding still. Riddick seemed to be asking a question and he nodded, desperate for something more, something he knew was going to be better. Chuckling, Riddick wrapped his fingers in Vaako’s dark hair again, diving down for another kiss. Shoving his tongue deep into Vaako’s mouth, distracting him for the barest second, he pushed gently inside. Vaako couldn’t stop the groan this time, almost choking on Riddick’s tongue.

 

It was an overwhelming sensation, being stretched inside by Riddick’s hardness. He sucked in sharp breaths and held as still as possible, trying to make his muscles stop fighting the intrusion.

 

Despite the incredible pleasure he was feeling at the warm tightness around him, Riddick held perfectly still until he felt the body underneath him relax, felt Vaako lift his hips tentatively.

 

The intrusion slowly retreated from him, then pushed back in again. Vaako moaned - couldn’t help it. Didn’t matter - Riddick was moaning right along with him, both keeping their voices low, somehow remembering they weren’t alone in this house. Riddick didn’t care much, but he knew how easily embarrassed his Right Hand was - at this moment he knew he wanted to keep the man happy forever, if it meant he could do this again.

 

Vaako’s mind had been hanging desperately onto the need to be quiet, but as Riddick began to move in a slow rhythm, he stopped thinking about the fact that there were others here and drew in a shaking breath. It felt good, the invading hardness pushing briefly against that sensitive spot and making the pretty lights explode behind his eyes.

 

Riddick was close to losing control - he didn’t remember it ever feeling this good! He didn’t know if it was because Vaako was so deliciously tight, or if it was because he was the first to claim the man this way - and he didn’t care. He couldn’t keep up the gentle rhythm, either - he took hold of Vaako’s neglected arousal with one hand and began to thrust hard, emitting a deep, low growl that was almost a purr.

 

With a noise of his own that was somewhere between agony and lust, Vaako wrapped his legs around his Lord, pulling the man even deeper into himself, his own hands leaving the sheets and going back to Riddick’s body, caressing erratically, his fingers moving over the broad back and shoulders to slide down to Riddick’s hips, flexing against the smooth skin with every thrust.

 

Another soft moan broke free of his throat, his body lifting to meet each hard drive. Riddick’s purring increased in volume, his hand moving faster, silver eyes shining, never leaving the other man’s face. Vaako arched, biting his lip hard enough to bring blood, his release catching him so suddenly he was shocked. Riddick followed hard after him, choking back the roar he wanted to give at finally claiming this man. They collapsed together in a panting heap, one smiling smugly while the other stared at the ceiling in complete and total astonishment.

 

"Mine." Riddick’s gravelly voice whispered the word. Vaako wouldn’t have dreamed of arguing.

 

 

*

 

 

In the darkness, it stirred.

 

It sensed life where none should be. It allowed itself to scan these foreign beings, testing them for their worth.

 

It saw them in colors, reds and greys and blacks and dark blue... not particularly - appetizing.

 

Wait.

 

There, in one corner of the Bringing Place, something shone out...

 

Two somethings. One a rare silver, smooth and shining, the other glowing gold, deep and rich and warm.

 

‘ _Delicious_...’

 

It wanted them - and nothing would stop it.

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Riddick did sleep. Lightly, and he woke when Vaako did. They gazed at each other for a moment - Riddick hadn’t lost his grin even in his sleep - then realized why they had woken. The room was dark, evening fallen while they slept. There was a scratching at the door, a low growling whine. One of the Hellhounds was trying to get their attention. Riddick was up and dressed in an instant, opening the window and tossing Vaako his own clothes before he went to the door.

Vaako sat up, winced and got quickly to his feet. He moved out of sight from the door before Riddick opened it, speaking to someone in the outer room in a low voice. Vaako looked down at himself and saw that he was clean. He was amazed - both that Riddick had to be responsible for that and that he had slept through it. He must trust his Lord Marshal more than he thought. His hips were lightly bruised where Riddick had gripped them and he felt a tingling against the base of his neck that was probably a bite.

His shirt would cover that. Vaako always knew the high collars were good for something. Dressed, he moved closer to the door, realized that it was Troan Riddick was speaking with, something about the translation being almost complete. Riddick was leaning a broad shoulder against the doorframe, his other arm flung across the top of the door, holding it half-closed. He showed no intention of moving, even when he accepted the data pad his First held out. Vaako could feel curiosity and some amusement coming from Troan... and a touch of something else. Jealousy? Yes, definitely jealousy, but not direct. He tried to sort it out, his own emotions rusty from long disuse, and decided that Troan didn’t want Riddick or himself. It was more nebulous than that.

Troan was - lonely?

And jealous of companionship, and what only an idiot wouldn’t realize had happened in this room.

Vaako thought of Garen, and the way he looked at Troan with longing in his eyes. He smiled with a little amusement of his own.

Maybe Troan wouldn’t be lonely for much longer.

The open window stirred fresh air and cloying dust through the room, erasing the erotic scent that lingered from earlier. The dust made Vaako grab for his breather. He didn’t feel like having that settle in his lungs. He turned back to find the door closed and Riddick watching him, amusement and something else in his silver eyes. Vaako raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Don’t like that," Riddick said, moving closer and running his fingers along the edge of the breather, grazing the sensitive skin of Vaako’s jaw. The dark-haired man gave a tiny shiver and Riddick grinned wolfishly. "Don’t like it at all - can’t kiss you through a breather."

"You cannot kiss me if I am coughing and choking, either," Vaako said mildly, but he took the breather off. Riddick’s grin grew evil - he jerked the man tight against him, grabbing a handful of long black braids and yanking Vaako’s head back. He zeroed in on his mouth and claimed him again with a ferocious kiss, his tongue invading that warm mouth and demanding that his tongue play along. Vaako surrendered without a qualm. The kiss continued until his knees were weak and his lungs screamed for air - but it was all right - there were strong arms around him, holding him up, strong hands searching his body, a strong knee pushing between his. With that, who needed air? He trembled and wrapped his arms around Riddick’s neck -

\- and jerked away, gasping harshly, eyes wild.

"Vaako?!" Riddick tightened an arm around his waist, turning the man’s chin so that he faced him again.

"...something is coming..."

"What, Vaako? What’s coming?" Riddick didn’t like the way those hazel eyes weren’t focusing. He gripped the smaller man’s shoulders and shook him. Vaako didn’t respond, still staring at something Riddick couldn’t see. "Vaako?"

"...something hungry..."

"Vaako!" Riddick’s palm smacked against the man’s face, and the empty eyes abruptly focused.

"W...what...?"

"What did you feel?" Riddick hadn’t let the man go.

"Hungry - it is so... so hungry... they were not enough..."

"Who wasn’t enough?"

Vaako blinked rapidly, looking puzzled. "I - do not know. Something was speaking to me - but it is gone now, and I do not remember..."

"Need to rest?" Riddick was surprised at the concern he felt - how had this man become so important to him? He’d wanted him from the first time he’d seen him, when he’d fought the soldier on that ship. Killed the man and turned to see those eyes fixed on him.

If he could have, he would have taken him right then - something deep inside had roared, ‘ _Mine_!’

He forced the thoughts away for now.

Vaako was shaking his head.  "No - I am fine now."

Seemed to be true - his eyes were clear, and even his trembling from the sadly short moment of passion had stilled.

Too bad.

Riddick would have been more than happy to start him trembling again, but they had things to do. They needed to find out what that book had been about, what had happened in this house. Especially now, since some... _thing_  was talking to Vaako. He had no illusions that might be something friendly.

Not if it was hungry.

 

 

*

 

 

"A spell?"

"Yes, Lord Marshal. A Summoning spell, to bring what the book calls ‘The Avenger’ to them."

"That’s what the book was open to?"

"Yes, sir."

Riddick gazed at the tech, frowning slightly. He’d always hated mystical shit, and he wasn’t feeling any differently now. According to the book, the Avenger was ‘summoned’ whenever the people of this planet were threatened, under attack - and it ate their enemies. Normally, he’d snort at such as stupid fairy tale, but something had happened to the people on this rock! If this so-called ‘Avenger’ had somehow backfired and eaten them instead, he needed to be prepared. Vaako had said the thing that spoke to him was hungry. Hungry things were dangerous. He wasn’t going to let it feed on him or his army.

And he was _damned_  if it was going to eat his empath!

His eyes went automatically to where Vaako stood, leaning against the wall of the chamber where they had found the book, silently reading the data pad with the translation. Protega leaned against his legs, purring softly as one slim white hand absently stroked her head.

Riddick gazed calmly at him, too self-controlled to shake his head with confusion. Some of the feelings he had for this man puzzled him. Not the possessiveness he felt - no, _that_  didn’t confuse him at all. Vaako was just _his_  and that was all there was to it. It was the concern he felt over the threats to his well-being that were confusing the former convict. The knowledge of what the Nobles would try to do to him if they found out about his talents, and the nebulous threat of ‘something hungry.’

Then there was the tenderness he felt, the desire to never hurt this man, when all of his other so-called relationships had been slam-bam, rough almost to the point of violence. A little pain had just made things more interesting. Yet he quailed at the thought of hurting Vaako that way.

Completely baffling.

And beside the point at the moment - he had to figure out what was going on. He reached for his own data pad, only to pause at Vaako’s soft, rich voice.

"What is this other spell?"

"Sir?" The tech asked politely, standing with her head tilted as she waited for more information.

"This spell on the page before the Summoning spell. The... ‘Spell of Opening’? It says ‘to reveal the way the Avenger shall come’... But it’s not like the Summoning spell." Hazel eyes met Riddick’s black goggles.

The Lord Marshall quickly found the page Vaako was referring to. The man was right, of course. Vaako’s quick intelligence had made an excellent impression on Riddick, and this time was no different. The Summoning spell was a mix of pompous phrases, a plea for help and praise for the Avenger’s many qualities. The Opening spell was only a few lines long, a series of sounds and unrelated words.

Riddick hesitated for about half a second, then said them aloud.

And the wall behind Vaako just disintegrated, sending the man tumbling backwards into darkness, his eyes round with surprise.

 

*

 

"It’s a voice lock. Very old, perhaps a hundred years old. The combination of sounds unlocked the entrance." The tech was standing on a chair, examining the new doorway, other techs clustered around her. "The wall was a hologram over an inlaid door. It’s very well done, and so old our scanners completely overlooked it. We should have them calibrated for ancient mechanics, if it pleases the Lord Marshall?"

"It damn well does please me." Riddick growled, still angsty over watching Vaako vanish into darkness, although the man had gotten no more than dusty on the floor of the hidden corridor. The Empath had seemed amused, although Protega had gone on high alert, ready for a threat to her charge.

Part of Riddick’s agitation stemmed from the fact that she had yet to calm down.

Even now she stood inside the doorway, gazing down the hall with her red eyes gleaming. She looked ready to attack - but there was nothing there.

"Bring the other Hellhounds in here." Riddick said to Garen, who was standing nearby. The man nodded and vanished, returning in seconds with Rage and the cub. Both of them surveyed the room, then went straight to Protega, to stand by her and add their growls to her own.

"Something is down there." Troan murmured, putting everyone’s thoughts into words. "Are we going to go see?"

"Of course." Riddick answered. He’d been standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Vaako, reassuring himself that the man wasn’t hurt. Now he moved towards the door, a single quick tug of Vaako’s sleeve telling him to come along. He came willingly, as curious as the rest to see what might be down there.

"Send a lensor first, after the Hellhounds." Riddick ordered, "and bring some lights." They had yet to discover any built-in way of illuminating the corridor, and it vanished into darkness after a few feet. This wouldn’t have bothered the lensor, the Hounds, or Riddick, but the others he was bringing along would need to be able to see.

"Five soldiers with us." He ordered, as Troan looked expectantly at him. "You and Garen take care of things here."

His Second of Commanders nodded firmly, accepting the responsibility given him. He’d have liked to go along, to see what was down that dark corridor, but he knew where he was needed. He’d find out soon enough, anyway. Turning, he motioned for five of the elite Guard to follow after their Lord Marshal.

Yur fell into step behind them. No one commented - they’d known he would go where Vaako went. Yet, Troan caught a flash of irritation on the Lord Marshal’s usually stony features as he looked at the man.

He wondered how long before those two attacked each other?

Troan wasn’t blind. He’d seen the way the big Captain’s eyes devoured the Lord Marshal’s Right Hand. Stupid man, for desiring what no one else would _ever_  be allowed to touch, not so long as Riddick was breathing. And Yur was no match for the dangerous new Marshal - he’d never defeat him and be able to take what he wanted.

But the man probably didn’t realize that, or didn’t care.

After all, he’d attacked Vaako, when the whole Necromonger army knew about Vaako’s superb fighting skills. Troan had pulled up Yur’s record, a quick scan telling him the man would never go beyond Captain, that it was luck, stubbornness, and the element of surprise that had gotten him that far. It would have taken intelligence and patience to go further, and Yur had neither. He could never have hoped to win against Vaako, and Troan wondered absently why he’d bothered to try.

The thought stirred something in his memory, something he’d seen - he couldn’t quite grasp it, so he let it go for now. It would come to him.

 

*

 

The passageway was cold as well as dark, and was only paneled and floored for about fifteen feet. After that, it became more cave-like, roughly hewn out of rock, musty and dripping with damp. It was narrow and low, making it hard to walk without brushing against the moldy walls, without smacking one’s head against the uneven granite roof. Vaako was glad he wasn’t claustrophobic. He felt like he was in a small, dank tomb.

"Nice place for some mighty Avenger." Riddick said sourly, his steps careful as he tried not to slide on the wet rock floor.

Vaako murmured a soft agreement. He didn’t like this place - some deep instinct was screaming at him to get out, get away! He ruthlessly quashed it, forcing himself to keep going. It was just nerves, after all, built up to a frenzy after years of being ignored. Every emotion he had was multiplied today, and would be that way for about a week. At least, that was his estimate. A week seemed to be the limit for changes to his psyche. A week between Purifications, a week to wake up to sensations after the last one he’d had. So, hopefully in a week this inner turmoil would settle down.

After about fifteen minutes of walking, the narrow corridor spread out into an open, empty chamber. Big enough for them to stand up straight, with the ceiling several dozen feet above them. The floor here was sandy, a nice change from the slick wetness of the corridor. Soldiers moved to light up the room, shining the powerful searchlights around. There was an opening on the far side of the chamber, about a hundred feet away.

A black, yawning opening into what seemed to be another, bigger chamber. Vaako and the others approached it carefully, to stop halfway there at a sudden hiss from the lensor. It had ‘seen’ something move.

At the same time, Vaako felt a sudden, strange hunger gnaw at him. He resisted the urge to back away. ‘This is what I felt earlier,’ he thought, the edge of panic trying to take hold of him. This was dangerous, very dangerous - and he didn’t know how he knew, but he was in more danger than anyone else. Some long-forgotten instinct stirred in him, trying to tell him what to do, but he was so out of touch with it...

The Hellhounds were growling, crouched low to the floor and staring at the entrance to that chamber. Their ears were flat to their heads, all their vicious teeth showing. Vaako was startled to realize that it was a defensive pose, not a threatening one.

What could make such incredible beasts as these go on the defensive?!

He glanced at Riddick, saw the man had a gun in one hand, the other hovering close to where his favorite shiv was fastened at his waist. So Riddick felt the threat as well, enough to want weapons ready.

This was not good.

The soldiers with them had taken their cue from the Lord Marshal, getting their weapons out and ready. Yur moved to step in front of Vaako, ready to do his duty and defend his Master with his life. Vaako pushed him to stand at his side, not willing to sacrifice anyone to save himself, not willing to have his view of what was going to happen blocked.

The last thing he wanted was to be caught blind.

A rumbling sound came from the chamber, so low it was barely audible.

The Hellhounds growled.

The sound increased in volume slowly, separating and becoming smoother, more musical. The men exchanged glances, and began backing toward the corridor.

The sounds increased, formed themselves into words, spoken in a language they didn’t understand. After a moment the sounds became frustrated noises, then faded.

Then started again, more cognizant, growing in familiarity until they began to understand actual words.

"Ddddoooo ... yyouuuu... s...summmmooonnn... mmmmeeee....?" The question was a drawn out, gurgling hiss, like someone speaking with a mouthful of water. The voice was thickly evil and Vaako shuddered, wanting nothing more than to run.

He stood his ground instead. He was still a soldier.

"Ddddooo... yyoouu... summooonn... yyour... Aveeenngerrr?" The words were a bit clearer, and that title was definitely one they knew.

~ _Summon the Avenger, to devour our enemies_ ~

The line from the Summoning Spell echoed in Vaako’s memory. He darted a quick look at Riddick, saw that the Lord Marshal had recognized it as well.

"No." Riddick’s voice was firm and stopped the slow retreat in its tracks. "No, we didn’t summon any Avenger."

"Ddooo... you... bbringg... to ... me ... a ... sacrrriiifficce?" There was an eager sort of curiosity in the voice now that made Vaako’s instincts scream ‘Get Away!’.

"No, we damn well didn’t bring you a sacrifice! What the hell _are_  you, anyway?!"

"I... am... the Avenger... I w... will give you... your ... deeeepesst... dreams... if ... you... g..give ... me ... a sacrifiiiiccee..."

"No sacrifice. Show yourself." Riddick demanded, his finger tightening on the trigger of his gun.

A low, thick chuckle sounded in the room, then two vague streamers of light issued from the dark cavern, undulating across the floor toward them. The Hellhounds backed away, then darted forward and snapped at them. The teeth that could crush bone passed harmlessly through, dissipating the light only to have it form itself back into solidity a second later.

The two streamers went past Riddick and wriggled toward Vaako - Riddick shot out an arm and pulled his Empath away.

The streamers didn’t follow - they settled on Yur, twining around the man without touching him.

"I ... know. I see... what yooouu want. I will... give it ... to you... I will ... give him ... to you... if you... will sacrifice to... meee..."

Yur’s eyes rolled around wildly, settling on Riddick with panic in their light blue depths. There was panic - for a moment. Then they filled with jealousy and rage as they stared at the Lord Marshall, who had one arm wrapped protectively around Vaako, holding the man against his chest as he kept the gun trained on the chamber door. The tentacles of light were coming from there, after all, certainly that was where the biggest threat lay?

Not that Yur cared at the moment. Jealousy, greed, and anger rolled off him in waves, his hands twitching with the desire to reach out and grab his Master away from the one who held him. The emotions hit Vaako like physical blows - and made the tentacles quiver in what looked like ecstasy. Vaako didn’t know for sure how he knew that it was the emotions affecting them, but he did.

So did everyone else in the room.

"Ddddelllicious..." The ugly voice crooned. "Come... little one... sacrifice to me... and I will give him to you..."

"Like hell you will!" Riddick knew exactly who the ‘him’ was, but the voice ignored his outraged cry.

"Sssacrifice to me..." A constant, continuous urge, and Yur quickly gave in.

"What do you want?" He gasped the words out in a voice gone suddenly hoarse.

"Yyyoouuu... be mine, and I will... give him to you..."

"No!" Riddick shouted.

"All right, so long as he is mine." Yur agreed. So he would switch his loyalty to this... thing. Who cared who commanded him, so long as he could wrap his hands around Lord Vaako and call him his?

"Agreed!" The voice was a cackle of glee, and Yur barely managed to wonder if he’d made a mistake before more tentacles shot out from the room, wrapping around him in a malestrom of power and spinning him toward the cavern. He felt a moment of terror, a sharp instant of pain, then an odd floating sensation as he was pulled into darkness...

The others watched in horror as Yur’s body dissolved into grey dust and a vaguely Yur-shaped shadow was drawn into the darkness.

And vanished.

"Quite... a nice little... snack." The voice said smugly, "Now I ... wish for... the main course..." The tentacles began to writhe around the entrance, but came no closer. They seemed to be waiting.

"Main course? What the hell does that mean?" Riddick demanded. Vaako had sudden visions of the entire Necromonger army vanishing in that same puff of dust...

...grey dust?

He suddenly realized _why_  this planet was covered in choking, cloying layers of the stuff - billions of people, and the Avenger had apparently recoiled on them...

He remembered wiping the dust from his clothes, brushing it from his skin and spitting it out when it got in his mouth.

He was going to be sick.

Apparently the other soldiers were too, as they stared at the little pile of dust Yur had left behind and realized the same thing he had realized. Every one of them was beginning to turn green.

Riddick alone seemed unaffected.

"Well? C’mon, you think you’re going to eat us all? You ain’t _our_  Avenger!"

That was true enough, Vaako realized. Apparently the people of this planet had worshiped this thing, so they belonged to it - and it hadn’t eaten Yur until he agreed to belong to it, as well.

Did that make it harmless, or not?

His question was answered a second later, as the tentacles shot out. Stronger and thicker than before, they twisted around the gun and had it yanked out of Riddick’s grasp and away before he could react. More of them twisted around the two men, pulling them off their feet and into the air, pulling Vaako away from Riddick even though both of them fought to hang on.

The Hellhounds got over their fear and attacked, leaping up and snapping at the light, their teeth almost seeming to set into the transparent tentacles before the Hounds fell back to the ground. Unfazed and furious, they leapt again and again until the tentacles struck viciously back, knocking all three of them across the room and slamming them into the rough rock walls. They were up and snapping again in an instant - Protega’s jaws clamped down on one of the tentacles holding Riddick, and she hung for an second before falling, the tentacle tearing apart and clear fluid dripping onto the sandy floor before it pulled itself together again.

The moment had been long enough for Riddick to act - the other tentacles had paused in apparent surprise and the former convict had ripped them away, plummeting to the floor to land neatly on his feet. He snatched up the gun and poured bullets into the tentacles around Vaako, his aim far too good to ever risk hitting the man.

More of the liquid rained down as tentacles broke and reformed. Several times Vaako thought he was free, struggling to get back to solid ground, before more of the things wrapped around him and pulled him back up - and closer to the cavern door. They weren’t spinning him like they had done to Yur, and there was no sign of his turning to dust, yet they held him in a painfully tight grip.

‘Strange,’ his mind thought calmly while his body fought, ‘they seem so insubstantial, yet they hurt...’ He could almost feel bruises raising on his body wherever these damn things held him. He fought one hand free and grabbed for his blade, slashing angrily at the alien... entity holding him. The metal passed through the waving, twisting appendages easily, some leaking fluid for a moment while others just dissolved. It didn’t help - the ones he slashed just reformed, and more shot out from the dark to join them.

He heard Riddick roar in anger behind him - beneath him? He was beginning to feel drained and confused. The knife fell from his hand and he heard it thump on the ground. The ground that seemed to be... above him?

How very strange.

One of his hands wandered to his own arm, feeling carefully of the solidness beneath the smooth cloth of his shirt, making _sure_  he wasn’t turning into that grey powder. No, he seemed to be remaining whole - just his brain was apparently turning to mush. He felt like it was literally going to leak out of his ears. His mind became a roaring rush of noise, Riddick shouting, the Hounds howling, the soldiers shrieking while the guns blasted all around him.

He couldn’t take this...

Darkness filled his vision, restful, beckoning to him. Something alien but soothing touched his mind, urging him to sleep.

He had no resistance, no strength left to fight it.

He gave in, and his eyes slid closed.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N:  Parts of this chapter are, of necessity, from Riddick's POV.  Just for the heck of it, I made it first person.  Don't get too confused...  
  
  
  
  
  


 

Don’t got many rules in my life, but the ones I have are set in stone.

First one is: Waste Them Before They Waste You.

Second one? Never Touch What’s Mine.

And Vaako’s mine.

Don’t have a heart - don’t love the man. Don’t know what love is. All I know, when I think of Vaako, the blood-pumpin’ muscle in my chest beats a rhythm.

A rhythm that says, _Mine, Mine, Mine_...

I’m pretty damn sure that Yur is dead.

That makes him one lucky man.

‘Cause if he wasn’t dead, I’d rip out his spleen with my bare hands.

Nobody takes what’s mine.

Tried to get Vaako back, after that damn octopus-wannabe carried him into the dark. We couldn’t make it through the opening into that cavern - not me, not the soldiers, not the Hellhounds. Bounced off of open air like it was made of rubber.

Didn’t want to shoot into it - the bullets might have got through, but we didn’t know where Vaako was. Didn’t want to shoot him.

Would’ve defeated the purpose, ya know?

I didn’t like it, but we hadda let it go for now. Leave Vaako in there. I was gonna have to go back to my techs, try to figure out what the hell was going on here, how to get him back. I left the lensor and five soldiers in the first cavern, watching the second and ready to report any new action.

Protega was crouched by the entrance looking like she’d lost her best friend. I guess she had, she’d decided from day one that Vaako was her buddy. I took Rage and the cub, Jazz, with me but I didn’t try to make her come. I have a feeling she wouldn’t have left. Anyway, she could help guard.

When I got through the corridor back to the house, the techs were already setting up some mobile station. Monitors, keyboards, buttons, little flashy lights, the works. They would have been able to see what happened through the lensor’s feed. Apparently they knew what I was going to want, and were already starting their research before I killed one of them to make them move faster.

Smart people. No wonder they were techs.

Stood there watching them, knowing my glare would make them work faster, harder. Stood there trying to think of anything, anyone, that could help make sense of this mess.

I wanted him back.

Now.

It was like something burning in my blood - the desire to run back down that corridor, throw myself through that damn barrier, take back my... whatever he was.

My possession, my Empath, my Right Hand, my mate...

Didn’t matter. Just _mine._

I had to stop thinking like that, force my brain to focus on what was going on. The techs were making worried little noises as they worked, analyzing some of the wet sand I’d had one soldier bring up. Wet from where those tentacles had dripped on it, the few times we’d ripped one apart. I could tell they weren’t figuring anything out yet.

"So what is it? What’s it made of?" I demanded, not patient enough to wait for one of them to tell me something.

"It... it’s water," that little girl tech said bravely, trying to keep the quiver out of her voice.

"Water." I said the word like it was something nasty, and saw her flinch. I didn’t care, wasn’t her fault and I wasn’t going to rip her apart. I knew that, but she didn’t. And I wasn’t going to tell her.

Fear would keep her working hard.

Water. The thing bled water.

And it was made of light.

What did that mean?

How the  _hell_  should I know? I ain’t no damn scientist!

Let the techs work on it. I was going to see what kind of weapons those transports had on them.

 

 

*

 

 

Something wasn’t quite right.

Vaako wasn’t sure what the something was, but it was nagging at the back of his mind.

He walked down the corridor of the ship, noting the dark blue wall hangings and decorations and wondering vaguely why they weren’t silver and metallic. Shouldn’t they have been? Or... Zhylaw’s colors... had been dark reds and browns.

His brain kept trying to puzzle it out while his feet moved him mechanically forward. He had somewhere to go, but he couldn’t quite remember where it was.

Lucky that his legs seemed to know. They kept walking, walking...

...and stopped outside the Lord Marshall’s chambers. The guards at the doors nodded and let him in without questions. He stepped into the formal little audience chamber, and once again the sense of something not quite right prodded at him. He pushed it aside for now, moving forward to kneel respectfully at the Lord Marshall’s throne.

"Rise." A voice said cooly, and he obeyed, lifting his eyes to meet the pale blue ones gazing hungrily at him. A vague half-memory stirred in his mind, of this man fighting Lord Zhylaw, of an awesome fight and a glorious victory.

A new Lord Marshall.

He blinked. Well, that explained the wall hangings, didn’t it?

The Lord Marshall stepped down from the throne and Vaako took a respectful half-step back. The man followed him, circling him like a predator and raking his eyes over him. Vaako watched with his own eyes half-closed, completely calm and composed.

Except for that nagging little part of his brain that kept screaming this was wrong! wrong! wrong!

He tried his best to ignore it.

"Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in something... lighter?" The Lord Marshall’s voice was closer than it should be. It seemed he was speaking right by his ear even though the man stood a good three feet away. Very odd.

Vaako glanced down at his rather battered armor and the warm, thick garments he wore under it. It was rather warm in here, and the armor was heavy. He nodded.

There was a sudden sharp sense of weightlessness, of motion, then he was standing in the Lord Marshall’s inner chamber, a room he’d been to only twice. Full of sharp, formal furniture, statuary and tapestries, he’d always silently hated it. So pretentious.

"Much better." The voice spoke next to him again, trying for a purr but coming out more of a grumble. How did he know it was trying for a purr? Why was it  _supposed_  to purr? And what was better?

He glanced down at himself and saw without surprise that his armor was gone, that he wore some soft, light clothes of the same shade of blue as the wall hangings, as the color scheme in this room. Very appropriate.

He was just another decoration, after all.

A big hand landed on his shoulder, pulling his attention back to the Lord Marshall just in time for the man’s lips to crush against his. He stayed passive, feeling his own lips bruise and tasting a trace of blood. Felt the big hands slide roughly along his shoulders and down his ribs to settle on his hips, pulling him hard against the other man as a tongue slid into his mouth...

...and it was  _wrong!_

Wrong taste, wrong feeling - the memory of another taste blasted into his mind, a cool and faintly metallic taste, overlaid with a deep rich tang. A name whispered through his head, a face floated in the darkness behind his closed eyelids.

Riddick.

He shoved Yur away and bared his teeth at him, nearly hissing. "What is going on here? Where am I, what is this?!"

Yur stared, then lifted his face to the ceiling.

Or where the ceiling used to be - it was just a yawning black void.

"What is going on here?!" He echoed Vaako’s words. "This isn’t right, he’s not supposed to know this isn’t real!"

"Quiet!" Another voice, an alien voice he remembered, shot through the rapidly disintegrating room, then he was floating in darkness once more and that terrible pressure was back, squeezing around him like it wanted to press the air from his lungs, the blood from his veins.

"Sleeeeppp..." whispered the voice, soothing him, taking away the pain, and he relaxed again, even though he didn’t want to...

 

 

*

 

 

"There’s a call coming from the mother ship, sir." One of the techs told me when I came back to the house.

"Put it through." I didn’t want to deal with it, but you never know where help might spring from.

And it was a good thing I decided that.

The face on the screen was beautiful, in a Mother-Nature-meets-the-Ice-Queen sort of way. And it was familiar, too.

"What do you want?" I wasn’t in the mood to be polite.

"To help you." Aereon replied, her voice as soft and smooth as always.

"I ain’t got time for your mystical mumbo-jumbo." I growled at her. "I got other things to worry about."

"Perhaps you’ll have time for a few facts about the creature you are dealing with?" She asked sweetly, her young-old eyes lighting up with humor.

I swore.

Tricky bitch.

 

 

*

 

 

"We have always known the creature was on a planet somewhere in this system." The Elemental was strolling back and forth like she was on a nice calm walk at the beach. I didn’t know how they got her down here so fast and I didn’t care - she had insisted on talking face-to-face, saying she didn’t trust the vid links not to be tapped.

Whatever, so long as she could help me get Vaako back.

She didn’t seem surprised that he was gone. I was still waiting to find out why.

"The creature is old. Very old. We have stories about it dating back thousands of years. But it was thought to be injured, and weak, and no longer a worry. Our people stopped trying to seek it out and destroy it eons ago."

"What is it?" I wasn’t in the mood for a fairy tale.

"It is called, I think, the Avenger. A name given to it by the people of this planet, who were fooled by its false promises. It would have just been waiting to lull them into security so it could feast upon them. Avenger, indeed. It has an older, darker name."

"And that is?"

"The Devourer of Souls."

 

 

*

 

 

Vaako waited by the bed, kneeling on the small cushion, as was his usual habit. He spent his time examining the light silver chains around his wrists, studying them for imperfections, making sure they were polished to a mirror hue.

His Master didn’t like it when he looked untidy.

Once the chains met with his satisfaction, he turned his attention to his clothes. Light, gauzy things of a soft shade of grey, cut to reveal as much skin as possible to the soft light of candles. Arranged just so, so they would entice and allure without revealing too much, keeping some secrets to be uncovered. Everything seemed to be perfect about them...

The door opened and he looked up sharply, a practiced smile settling on his face. The big man who came into the room smiled back, his eyes raking over the slim form waiting for him.

"You look beautiful this evening, Pet."

He smiled and lowered his eyes, knowing what was expected of him. He didn’t reply.

His Master didn’t need to hear his voice.

The man moved slowly around the room, taking off his heavy outer garments, pouring a glass of wine. The pale eyes never left Vaako, who in turn never looked up.

But he could feel the eyes watching him. It was so very familiar - those eyes had always been watching him, ever since he was purchased, just a young child, from the slave market in the city. Given the name Pet, raised for years to be the Master’s plaything, until the day he was old enough to share the man’s bed.

A thought flickered across his mind - if his name was Pet, why did he remember Vaako? Was that his name before -

"You’re thinking too hard, little Pet." The thick voice was right in front of him, a strong hand grasping his chin to lift his face. Hard lips moved against his, the familiar taste of wine and his Master’s tongue filling his mouth.

_You know this taste_.

The words filled his mind but didn’t sound like his usual thoughts - his eyebrows drew together even as he allowed his Master to deepen the kiss, totally submissive to the man’s wishes. Of course he knew the taste, better than he knew the taste of food...

He got the sudden feeling that something was smugly satisfied.

Master leaned back, licking his lips with some satisfaction of his own. Those pale eyes roamed his Pet’s body, settling on his hair with a sudden frown.

Vaako tensed. What was wrong? He’d been very careful with his hair, the elaborate braids had taken well over an hour...

"I don’t like this hairstyle." Big hands brushed against the shaven sides of his head, ran blunt fingers through the shorter hair at the top. "I think it should be all one length."

The other man trembled as a strange tingling started on his scalp, as darkness whirled in his vision and then he was opening his eyes again, soft black strands of hair falling in front of his face. He lifted a hand and touched one, eyes round with surprise.

Surprise that quickly faded - this had happened before, of course. His Master liked to make changes, he would have to get used to the new weight of hair that tumbled over his shoulders to brush his waist. Even the braids were gone.

Hands began searching his body, pushing and pulling at the soft cloth. Vaako stayed completely still, knowing his Master liked to be rough when he undressed him, wondering if this outfit was going to share the fate of so many before it...

_Riiiiiiiiiiippp_.

Certainly seemed so.

He watched as Master threw the shreds of his shirt to the side, the hands rough against smooth pale skin now, instead of soft grey cloth. Vaako -  _Pet_  still didn’t move, knowing there would be bruises, but weren’t there always bruises?

_Light bruises from strong fingers holding his hips, a tingling at the base of his neck that was probably a bite. His shirt would cover that... he always knew those high collars were good for something_...

He gasped and tried to pull away from the hands clutching at his back, from the mouth that had settled on his collarbone, sucking hard enough to hurt. Pale eyes shot to his face, taking in the wild confusion in his own hazel eyes. Master’s face darkened with anger.

"What do you think you’re doing? You’re mine, you know that, you’ve always been mine!"

_Mine - a gravelly voice whispered the word. Vaako wouldn’t have dreamed of arguing_...

"No!" He cried forcefully, shoving the man away. Yur growled and grasped the chains, yanking him to the floor and throwing his heavy body on top of him.

"You’re mine! Not his, not anymore! Mine, and I’m keeping you here!"

"How?!" Vaako shouted back, fury filling him. "How, when you are not even real?" He threw a punch that went right through Yur’s startled face, the room wavering and shredding around them and the darkness soothed him again, lulling him to sleep, away from the pressure, away from the pain...

He still felt the weight of his hair... how strange...

He let the darkness take him, far too sleepy to fight.

 

 

*

 

 

"You’re trying to tell me it ain’t real? I  _saw_  the thing carry Vaako away!"

"I’m not saying it isn’t real. I’m saying that it doesn’t have a physical body. It is made up of light, and of water, and of air. It controls these, in small amounts, to manipulate the physical world. It is the mental world where it reigns supreme."

"And that means what, exactly?"

"That it chose Vaako for a reason. Yur was only a means to an end, something to use against Vaako once it had him."

"Use against him." My voice was flat, but she darted a sudden quick look at me, her eyes widening slightly before she continued her lecture.

"Yes. To cause emotions to flow through him - everything Vaako feels, when he has no control, is magnified to an intense degree. The Devourer feeds off of emotions, the ‘soul’ of an individual. With Vaako being an Empath, not only does it get  _his_  strong emotions, but through him, it can feed off of anyone within range - without having to use its own power. It may have seemed strong, but it can only manage such feats for a short amount of time."

"But it just fed off a billion people."

"Yes, but very, very quickly. It would have absorbed very few emotions in the half-second it took to wipe them out - only enough to give it the strength to take Vaako and Yur."

"And how exactly is it using Yur against Vaako?"

"To keep him upset, emotionally. I have heard - whispers - of how Vaako’s Honor Guard felt toward him. It will put them in different situations, where Vaako may or may not break free, depending on the strength of his mind. The longer it has him, the weaker he will become."

"What kind of - situations?"

"Use your imagination."

I had to suppress a growl. Yur was very lucky he was dead. Very, very lucky... "He  _is_  dead, right? Yur, I mean?"

"Sort of. His mind is still very much alive, even though his body is gone."

"So can I kill him?"

She had the gall to look amused. "If you feel you must. What did the Devourer promise him? Vaako?"

I nodded.

"Then if you take Vaako back, Yur will die."

"Is this... hurting Vaako? I mean, it’s all in his head, right?"

"Not exactly. It wants to keep Vaako alive for as long as possible, but it will use pain as a means to get the emotions that it wants. Anything that... well,  _happens_  to him, in his mind, will be happening to his physical body, as well. It is the best way of deceiving the mind. Telling someone they feel pain is much easier if they actually  _do_ feel pain. If Yur were to hit Vaako, for example, he would be bruised in real life as much as he would in the dream."

Such a dead man. Such a dead alien, too.

Vaako, buddy, fight hard.

"So how do I get him back? And wait - how did you know he was an Empath?!"

"I researched him, of course, as soon as I was told he was your Right Hand. I am still very interested in your destiny. I wanted to see where he fit in."

"His homeworld records are gone."

"Ah, yes, but if you know anything about the system the Necromongers were in at the time he was listed as Converted, it would be obvious what he was. There was only one inhabited planet in the area. Or not a planet, exactly - a small group of sparsely inhabited asteroids."

"And you know all about them, of course."

"Of course." There was no pride in her voice - she was just stating a fact. Irritating woman. "The area is known as the Xaviatte Cluster, and was once known throughout the universe for producing Empaths. Their race was nearly wiped out in a plague, several hundred years ago. I suppose they were only beginning to recover when Lord Zhylaw destroyed it. Such a shame. At least Vaako is left. You should consider getting a surrogate mother, and continuing his race. Continuing your own, as well. I don’t know how many Furyans are left, but there is no need for them to become extinct, and they will need their Focuses, of course..."

"Hold on, Breezy, you just lost me."

She glared at me, probably ‘cause of the nickname. So what, it fit. She could get used to it, if she wanted to hang around and study my ‘destiny.’

"Well, of course you realize that Furyans are powerful. You will not have heard of it, but there is a thing known as the ‘Rage’ of Furya. Rather a silly name, really, since it is not only anger, but any intensely felt emotion that can cause the reaction..."

"Breezy!" I cut off her lecture again.

"Oh, yes. Pardon my enthusiasm. Anyway, I’m sure you’ve noticed, a few times in your life, that when you felt extreme stress, some odd things happened? Bursts of light, perhaps, when you were fighting an uneven battle? and your enemies would be severely injured?"

I didn’t answer, but I think my expression may have given me away.

"I thought so. I’m quite sure you’ve tried to use it, and found you couldn’t control it. That’s what a Focus is for. For very powerful Furyans, the top of the food chain, if you will. And I’m sure that applies to you."

"And what’s a Focus?"

"I’ll quote the ‘definition’ to you as I’ve read it in our historical archives. It is the simplest explanation. ‘The most powerful of the Furyans were those who had a Focus, someone of strong empathic abilities, who could take in the wildly scattered Rage and focus it into a single, deadly pulse. This ‘Focus’ was usually, although not always, a person of the same gender yet of an alien race, most commonly from the Xaviatte Cluster, and was referred to as ‘the other half of the soul’. The Furyan kept this Focus with them at all times, and almost always established them as a permanent mate.’" She paused, looking at me brightly.

Permanent mate. Well, shit.

That was certainly something I’d never thought of.

Never wanted.

Though... if I had to have one...

...then Vaako was...

This was  _not_  the time to worry about it!

"So how is all this gonna help me get him back?" I demanded, definitely feeling some stress right now.

"Easily. The Devourer will not know you are a Furyan, or that Vaako is from Xaviatte. All it knows is that Vaako is delicious, and it probably would enjoy feeding off of you, as well. You’ll just have to get angry enough to send your ‘Rage’ to Vaako, and let him kill the creature for you."

"And how’s he supposed to do that? He doesn’t know any more about this than I do!"

"That doesn’t matter. It’s all instinct."

"Will it kill him, too? Since he’s in there with it?"

She frowned. "That is the only part of my calculations that I have no answer to. Such a thing has never been done. I cannot tell if your Focus will live through this, but it is your only choice. No weapon will kill the Devourer, only this single intense bolt of pure emotion. Anger is the strongest, and probably the easiest for you to achieve. They didn’t name your race ‘Furyans’ for nothing, you realize." She laughed softly.

I couldn’t help but grin, too.

 

 

*

 

 

The room was dark, and cold.

He hated being cold.

He shifted against the rough stone floor, feeling the heavy weight of chains on his wrists, on his ankles. Feeling the belt that wrapped tightly around his waist, making it difficult to breathe, felt the weight of the chain that was attached to it. The other end was bolted to the wall. He swallowed, and felt the collar around his neck, felt the heavy chain on it pulling his head down into a submissive posture that he did not truly feel.

He didn’t remember why he was here.

Some crime in his long-forgotten youth, he supposed, that kept him chained in this room, prey for any free person who came along. The punishment on his planet was the same for every offense.

Slavery for life.

And slaves who caused trouble were put in rooms like this, chained down with so much weight it was hard to move, their bodies free for the use of anyone who wanted them.

He hated his life, but he was helpless to change it.

The heavy door creaked open, and he looked up without any real interest, watching to see who was going to defile him tonight.

A new customer, hmm. Big man, with pale eyes that were already greedy on him. Why would he look so much like he wanted to eat him, he knew he was dirty and skinny and covered with bruises and scars from so many nights with so many different people...

Big hands tangled in his long hair, yanking him to his feet. His muscles protested the weight of his shackles, but he had no choice. On his feet, and into a bruising kiss, even as impatient hands began to grasp at his chest, run roughly across aching ribs, pinching and twisting at nipples that still hurt from the night before.

He swallowed a moan of pain, determined not to give the man the satisfaction.

A rough shove sent him sprawling to the floor, helpless to stop the man as he climbed on top of him, shoving at the ragged clothes that barely covered him, anyway. Teeth bit into his shoulder and he shuddered, wishing he could push the man away. Why were they always so rough, it wasn’t like he could stop them? They didn’t have to hurt him so badly. Didn’t have to leave him bruised and bleeding.

_Always had everything rough_...

True enough, though he didn’t know where the thought had come from. He wouldn’t know how to react to someone who didn’t hurt him. To hands that weren’t like the hands that were yanking his thighs apart, pawing at his backside. More bruises, how nice. Couldn’t a man ever have it be gentle?

_Can’t a man want some things to be sweet_?

Hadn’t there been hands, once, that didn’t hurt? Long fingered, strong hands that stroked instead of grasping, that petted instead of clawing?

... _silver eyes catching what little light shone in the window, and he leaned forward, closing his lips around one small, hard nub. Vaako murmured a soft, incoherent encouragement, his fingers leaving Riddick’s chest and going to stroke the smoothly shaven head_...

The man was kissing him again, hard, barely what you would call a kiss, more like his tongue raping his mouth in a foreshadowing of what would soon be happening to his body. He tried to cast his mind back to that elusive memory, searching for an escape from this reality.

... _fingers wrapped carefully around him, a thumb flickering across the tip to tease him mercilessly. He chewed at his lip to keep from moaning, hips bucking until Riddick lay a strong hand on him, holding_...

A hand slapped across his face, hard enough to rock his head back against the floor. His attention was dragged back to the furious man above him, the pale eyes crazed with anger. "You pay attention to me! Don’t try to get away! You’re mine!"

How had he known...?

Vaako’s eyes focused sharply. He knew this man - this man had no right to be on top of him, to be grinding against him, trying to force his reluctant body to show some interest. He moved, felt the weight of chains dragging him down, and subsided.

The memories had to be false - he’d been here so long, with a shadowy parade of men who were never gentle, never sweet.

Why couldn’t he remember a single face?

He remembered the silver eyes easily enough, the strong features and the rather smug smile that even now made him want to roll his eyes.

And the name. Riddick.

"Riddick..." he whispered, and received another blow, from a closed fist this time and he tasted blood in his mouth, the inside of his cheek sliced open against his teeth.

"Don’t say his name! Don’t... he doesn’t exist! You’re dreaming of a phantom!" The words were accentuated by punches that slammed into his ribs, into his stomach, slaps that rocked his head back and forth. "Don’t, don’t, don’t, don’t  _ever..._ "

"Don’t, yourself..." the words tasted thick in his mouth, like he’d never spoken aloud before, and the man paused, staring at him.

"Do not hit me again." He found the strength from somewhere, gathering his tattered, shredded mind back into its proper place. His voice was a firm order, sitting so oddly on the lips of a slave.

But he wasn’t a slave...

Was he?

"Vaako."

Well,  _that_  voice didn’t come from the man above him - his ‘customer’ looked like he’d seen a ghost, eyes wild and full of fear.

"Vaako, listen to me. I know you can hear me."

He knew that voice...

"Vaako, fight him. Fight them."

Them? There was only one man this time, thank the gods...

"Vaako, don’t let them win."

You try fighting, ghost voice, when there are ten tons of chains holding you down, and a very big man sitting on top of you.

"Vaako, it ain’t real. Whatever you’re seeing, whatever it’s showing you, it ain’t real."

Sure felt real. He hurt so badly...

"I know it hurts."

The voice was psychic! He’d always known Riddick was psychic, the man had seemed to know exactly what he was thinking, gotten the most embarrassing reactions out of him...

Riddick.

Riddick was talking to him.

Riddick was real.

Something in his mind snapped, and the angry man above him howled and began to vanish, screaming obscenities as he went.

Vaako was back in darkness, with the pressure around him and the pain coursing through him, worse now because he could feel the bruises Yur had given him, and he still hurt as if he’d been raped by dozens of men for dozens of nights. He could still taste the blood in his mouth.

But he knew who he was. Where he was, and why...

The alien voice was trying to soothe him to sleep, the oddest edge of desperation in it.

"Vaako, don’t sleep. I can hear it too, don’t listen. Don’t rest, it’s lying to you."

But he was so tired... he hurt...

"Vaako, I swear, I’ll let you sleep for a year if you want to. C’mon, work with me here."

"What do you want?" He didn’t realize he’d spoken aloud until he felt Riddick’s relief coursing through him.

"Good boy, Vaako. Fight it. Got something for you... just take it, don’t think about it. You’ll know what to do."

What on earth was the man going on about -  _gods,_  what was going through him?! He’d never felt such anger, such raw, primitive rage, how  _dare_  they try to take him away? How dare they hurt him? Mine, mine,  _mine..._

He screamed, and his body convulsed, the tentacles tightening around him until he thought he would die, and something bright and powerful flowed through his soul and up through his body and out his throat and the entire cavern was lit up, showing the alien in all its true horror, a wiggling mass like a huge pile of glowing slimy worms, squirming and writhing and trying to hold on to the shadowy people within it...

They were escaping, flowing free from the tentacles and vanishing into the light, some with relief on their faces and some with anger - he saw Yur, who looked like he was being ripped in half by fury of his own, before the shadow-man imploded and was gone.

Vaako hit the floor of the cavern as the tentacles let go, shriveling in the light of the anger that was still coursing through him, even as his own mind gave way and began to shut down. Protecting itself, closing off from the rage that would drive him insane.

He saw the alien as it seemed to melt, tentacles flowing down to the floor in a weeping river of water, light being swallowed by this stronger light.

Saw someone at the entrance to the cavern, looking at him, tense and ready to run forward.

Knew who it was.

Felt the rage die down as the creature in the cavern with him screamed out its death agonies.

Sensed real darkness waiting to swallow him, even as the man ran to him.

Held on long enough to feel a gentle hand touch his face before his eyes closed...

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

He hadn’t been able to let him go.

A little on the embarrassing side, if he’d had the capability of being embarrassed.

Which he didn’t.

But he hadn’t been able to let Vaako out of his arms, let alone out of his sight. Not when the medics tried to take him, not when Aereon, Troan and Garen tried to get him to let them examine him. That possessiveness from before was roaring inside him now, an animal determined to protect an injured mate. He could have no more let go than he could have stopped breathing.

So now he was back on the mother ship, Vaako still out cold, wrapped in one arm while held carefully in his lap. Sitting in the deep sunken tub of his Chambers, with warm soapy water up to their shoulders, gently cleaning away sweat and grime from the limp form.

Growling when he found more and more injuries on the man.

The menials had set up a low couch for when he was done cleaning him, before his searing gaze had chased them from the room. It was covered with thick soft towels and a small table loaded with medicines, creams and bandages was pulled close to it. He’d take his Empath there in a moment, but first he had to get him clean.

He smelled like Yur. It was making the hackles stand up on the back of Riddick’s neck.

He rinsed the rag off and soaped it again, tracing it carefully over the deep bite mark on one shoulder. Vaako’s body was one massive bruise, his ribs probably cracked, his face swollen and blue from being punched. His lips were bruised and split, one eye swelling closed. There were finger marks on his arms, on his smooth thighs and between his legs he was red and raw, like the alien had tried to assault him but wasn’t quite sure how. There was more bruising around his entrance but no sign that he’d been penetrated, which was about the only thing that was allowing Riddick to hold on to his sanity.

He dropped the rag and reached for a handful of the liquid soap, leaning Vaako’s head back into the water and then scrubbing gently at the long hair. He couldn’t help but be fascinated by it, even as worried as he was - it had been long before, and soft, but now it was thick, softer than silk, twice the length and framed Vaako’s white face in waves of raven black.

It was beautiful.

He rinsed it carefully and stood, stepping from the bath with Vaako still cradled in his arms. He lay his burden down on the couch and began to dry him, patting the towels gently against the broken skin. There were fingernail scratches around his nipples and running in red streaks down his groin and Riddick had to close his eyes for a moment, fighting another growl.

Wanting to kill Yur all over again.

He reached for the healing cream and began to massage it into the damaged skin, trying hard not to hurt the man further, but Vaako never stirred. Not even when he delicately applied it to the skin that had to be so painful, so sensitive, along the red raised welts of fingernails and further back between his thighs.

Good thing the stuff worked so quickly. Maybe Vaako would be pain-free by the time he woke. The medics had assured him the bruises would be gone within twenty-four hours. He spread the cream over the bite, over the damaged face and along the ravished lips. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, then bent over and gave the man an incredibly gentle kiss.

A second later and he was up looking for something to clean out Vaako’s mouth - he tasted of blood and someone else. Had to be Yur.

He couldn’t leave that taste there.

He couldn’t stand to leave it there, and he didn’t want Vaako to wake to it, either.

The man had been through enough without any reminders.

 

*

 

He lay Vaako carefully on the bed, not bothering to dress him, just pulling a thin blanket over the battered form. He had to put more cream on those injuries later, there was no point in causing him pain by pulling clothes on and off and on again. Vaako might not be moving, but there was no knowing if he was feeling this or not.

Riddick cupped his hand over Vaako’s least damaged cheek and chuckled wryly. "Never thought I’d be playin’ nursemaid for anybody, least of all you."

But he couldn’t let anyone else touch the man.

The Hellhounds were milling around the room, on edge and nervous. He knew they were responding to having an injured pack member. His eyes settled on Protega, who was standing on her hind legs, front legs planted firmly on the foot of the bed, reddish-golden eyes fixed on Vaako.

"Yeah, it’s your buddy." He said to her, and her ears twitched.

All the Hellhounds froze suddenly, and their eyes swung to the door.

A second later, someone knocked.

"Watch him!" Riddick said sharply, swinging his arm toward Vaako. Protega didn’t need a second invitation; she was on the bed and had herself wrapped carefully around the sleeping man before Riddick had gotten to his feet.

Troan was at the door, a datapad in his hand. "How is he?" He asked, peering over Riddick’s shoulder to where Protega rested her chin against Vaako’s hip, glaring at him.

"Still sleeping. What’s up?" Riddick closed the door, knowing Troan was trustworthy but he was still unable to leave Vaako the slightest bit defenseless.

"Aereon has some ideas you should be aware of."

Riddick lifted an eyebrow. "Important ideas? I don’t got time to waste."

"I think you’ll find them quite important." He handed the Lord Marshall the datapad.

The other man read it, a frown growing on his face, his eyebrows slowly drawing together until he was scowling in a rather frightening way. "Is this true? Got proof?"

"Not really, Lord Marshall, but I think it’s true. I saw the person with Yur on more than one occasion, though I didn’t know who Yur was, then. I mean, it was before he was Vaako’s Honor Guard."

"And you and Breezy both think that fight was planned?"

"Yes, but I think Yur was supposed to win. His becoming an Honor Guard was unforeseen, and gave us the only tiny bit of possible proof we have."

"Which is?"

"That there were supposed to be fifteen menials unloading breathers down on the planet, but the ship’s log says there were sixteen on board. One of the menials remembers seeing a soldier talking to another menial. Both were hiding behind the stack of crates. He doesn’t remember what the menial looked like, but he recognized an image of Yur easily enough."

"So you think they came down to chat things over?"

"Yes, sir. To make new plans; Yur was supposed to have taken Vaako’s position. Though he didn’t, he was still very close to you. And then there was his... er... attraction for Vaako. That would need to be discussed."

Riddick gave a growl of annoyance at the memory. He’d thought it rather amusing, in an annoying-Vaako kind of way, when he realized how the Honor Guard had felt.

Now he wished he’d slit the man’s throat.

"Think they’ll try something else?"

"Yes - there is certain to be more than one conspirator."

"Got any ideas who the rest might be?"

"A few, though none I can say for certain. They are all listed on the ‘pad, along with their files."

"Right. I’ll take a look. You got men you can trust?"

"Yes, sir."

"Post a guard, then. Only from them. Only you, Garen, and Breezy are allowed in until I say different. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!" Troan looked more than a little proud, even as he left to carry out Riddick’s orders.

The Lord Marshall stared after him, shaking his head slightly.

Necromongers were very strange.

He took the datapad and went back into the bedroom, gesturing for Protega to leave the bed. She did so slowly, a little reluctant. He growled at her and Rage echoed him. She went to a corner and sulked.

Riddick sprawled out beside of his still-sleeping Right Hand, careful not to jar the man, and started reading the dozen files Troan had gathered for him.

 

*

 

The voice that called his name was cold and distant, but the arms that held him were warm.

He wanted to open his eyes, but it seemed that someone had glued the lids shut.

...that wasn’t very nice of them...

As he lay there, cradled in those warm, safe arms, memories began to assault him. The cave, the alien, Yur and his little dramas... those memories were thankfully muted and dim, like dreams half-remembered when one woke. Then there was the white-hot anger that had surged through him - it hadn’t been his anger; it had belonged to someone else. He didn’t know who and the thought made him tremble.

The voice spoke soothingly to him - closer and warmer than it had been before. He couldn’t pull his mind together enough to be certain of what those words meant. A hand stroked his hair, traced gently along his eyebrow and down his cheek.

The touch was very familiar.

He  _was_  able to pull together every scrap of strength that he could find - enough to force his eyelids open.

At first, all he saw was a pale blur, hovering just inches away from his eyes. He blinked rapidly, and the blur came slowly into focus, became a familiar face with a familiar smirk, silver eyes glowing down at him.

The voice came into focus, too, in the middle of a sentence, "...time you opened those eyes."

The hand came back, oddly gentle as it cupped his cheek, and he managed to lift a weak hand and lay it on Riddick’s forearm.

The smirk broadened.

Vaako rolled his eyes. Why, again, did he care about this man?

Riddick just sort of purred at him, lowering his head and burying his face against his neck. He felt the warm, damp touch of a tongue against his skin and he sighed softly. His arms ached dimly, making their movement slow as he wrapped them around broad shoulders.

He didn’t expect sweet words, and he didn’t get them. He got warm lips against his ear, hot breath brushing over his skin, and finally a possessive kiss that stole his own breath and wiped out what little of his mind he had managed to scrape together.

Much better than any ‘I missed you.’

And the way Riddick relaxed after the kiss, not pushing his exhausted Right Hand into anything further, told Vaako pretty much everything  _else_  he needed to know. So did the way Riddick pulled him into his arms, holding him carefully against him, tucking the dark head under his chin even as he picked up a datapad and started reading it.

Vaako lay in the warm embrace for a long time, drifting on the edge of sleep and completely content. Riddick’s hand stroked his hair in a soothing rhythm, and the purring of comfortable Hellhounds calmed him even further. Garen’s voice beyond the door brought him out of his haze, offering dinner to the Lord Marshall.

"Hungry?" Riddick’s rumbling voice asked him.

He shook his head. "Not really. How long have I slept?" His own voice was soft and sounded fearfully far away.

"Been a day and a half, since I got you back. Hurt?"

Vaako waited a moment before answering, letting his senses test his body for pain. "No. I feel as if all the life has been wrung out of me, but I do not hurt."

"Good." Again, the oddly gentle fingers brushed his hair back, traced along in front of his ear and down to his chin. "Stay here. I’m gonna get some food." The warmth left him, and he had to force down a whimper.

Then he realized it was because he was expecting the room to melt away.

It didn’t. It stayed exactly as it was, a dim, richly furnished bedchamber. Full of living, breathing creatures, the sound of Riddick and Garen speaking in low voices, the oddly warm, metallic scent of the Hellhounds. So all this was real.

Well, that was certainly a relief.

He thought of Riddick saying ‘food’, and his stomach suddenly informed him that even if he thought he wasn’t hungry, it was just because he hadn’t been paying attention.

He started to call out, and thought better of it. Riddick was the Lord Marshall, after all, not his servant. He couldn’t ask him to bring him something to eat. Instead, he decided to get out of bed and get it himself.

He pulled back the covers and found himself naked. He blinked, then shrugged. It didn’t matter - it wasn’t like the other man hadn’t seen it all before. His skin glistened with a strange wetness, and he smeared his fingers across his ribs. They came away greasy and smelling strongly of a very familiar medical salve.

So he had been injured? Odd, he didn’t remember it.

That cream really  _did_ smell. Not pleasantly, either. He was suddenly more eager for a bath than food.

It took him three tries to make it out of bed - his legs were weak and more than a little shaky. When he finally made it to his feet, he had to lean on Protega. The Hellhound was conveniently close - she’d appeared beside the bed as soon as he started trying to get up. He stroked her ears in lieu of saying ‘thank you’ and got a pleased purr for his trouble.

Moving slowly, carefully, and leaning heavily on Protega the whole way, he made it to the bathing room and started filling the tub. He didn’t feel anywhere ready to try his usual brief shower. He’d probably end up flat on the floor if he did.

While the water was running, he shuffled across the room to fetch some towels. On the way back, he caught sight of himself in the huge wall mirror and stopped dead.

Was that  _him_?!

The man in the mirror was paler than he’d ever been, and thin. Much thinner than he should have been after only three days - he’d had a look at the date on one of Riddick’s datapads. There were a few yellowish traces of bruises on the eerily white skin, and a shoulder bore a nearly-healed pink ring of teeth marks. He saw the reflection slide its fingers over those marks slowly, felt the tiny imperfections under his own hand.

He vaguely remembered chains, Yur, and teeth sinking viciously into his skin... He wanted that bath desperately.

Where had all this  _hair_  come from? It was... long, much longer than he’d ever worn it - the short, spiky top and shorn sides had given way to heavy waves of black. A faint memory of Yur’s hands on his head and a tingling in his scalp made him reach for the scissors on a marble counter top, wanting to hack the alien length away.

Then he remembered Riddick’s big hand stroking it, over and over, like petting a cat. Remembered the comfort that action had brought to himself, the rare contentment on the other man’s face, and he lay the scissors back down.

"Good choice." A familiar rumbling voice sounded from the doorway. Before he could even turn his head, strong arms were wrapping around his waist, the touch a bit more possessive than gentle this time, and Riddick had his face buried in the hair behind his neck.

The man must have a fetish... interesting.

He turned carefully around, mindful of the fact that his legs were trembling and threatening to give way any moment. Riddick’s hands slid up his back, under the heavy fall of hair, stroking the skin that Vaako had found so unsettling.

"Shouldn’t have got out of bed. Shaking." The voice was muffled against his neck, warm lips mouthing the delicate skin of his throat.

"I need a bath. I smell like med bay."

He got a hum of acknowledgment, then Riddick lifted his face away and let him go, turning toward the tub. Vaako took a step after him.

And the mental shields he didn’t realize he had up fell away.

Every emotion of every person on the ship slammed into him.

Riddick caught him before he hit the floor, voice a soothing murmur that he didn’t understand. He gasped for air, pain and fear and anger and joy squeezing the breath out of his lungs.

But that white-hot rage from earlier had awoken something in his brain - long-forgotten habits came back to him, a careful sorting and shielding of the emotions that were battering at him. He didn’t really understand how he was doing it, but it was working, so he didn’t care.

Warm water was suddenly surrounding him, a sturdy chest behind his back and that voice still soothing in his ear. _Concern,_  something whispered in his mind, settling on the nearest and strongest emotion.

Riddick was worried about him.

A foreign feeling of warmth surged up in his own chest, an emotion he recognized as purely his own. He turned in the careful embrace and pressed a kiss against Riddick’s chin, too tired to lift his head up to the other man’s mouth.

Riddick chuckled, and the heavy concern faded to traces of itself, richly mixed with amusement.

"Feeling better, huh? That something left over from the cave, or...?"

It took Vaako a minute to find his voice, once more distant and soft, but he explained to the Lord Marshall about shields and the way his mind had decided to protect itself. That he hadn’t been prepared when that protection vanished. He could tell the man understood.

"Good. Wondered what the Rage would do to you. So your head takes care of itself... heh." He seemed to find that even more amusing.

Vaako considered swatting him, but it didn’t seem worth the trouble of lifting his arm. He suddenly realized that the reason he felt water around him was because Riddick had them both in the tub, and the big hands were lazily washing away the traces of medical salve.

"What did you mean... ‘the Rage’?" He asked softly, not feeling any need - or desire - to push the man’s hands away.

Riddick continued his ministrations, enjoying the feeling of warm, smooth skin under his fingers as he repeated what Breezy had told him. He left out the bit about ‘permanent mate’, though Vaako had no way of knowing that.

He was saving that for later.

 

*

 

Another day, and a gathering in the Throne Room.

A party of sorts, celebrating the death of that alien, though most of the Necromongers did not know the true story. That was the way Riddick wanted it, and Vaako had no problems with his decision.

He’d barely been out of the High Chambers, still so weak he could barely walk across a room, though it had been close to a week since Riddick had brought him back aboard the ship. He’d seen few people beyond Troan and Garen, and very occasionally the Elemental. She made him uncomfortable, always smiling at him as if she knew a secret he did not. Whenever she came to discuss things with Riddick, he found something to do in a different room.

He knew he wasn’t fooling them - the matching smirks when he left told him  _that_  - but he really didn’t care.

He wished he wasn’t here today. Too many people were looking at him, their expressions puzzling him greatly. Too many emotions were mixed up in this room for him to sort out what the expressions  _meant_. He could sense excitement, jealousy, an undercurrent of anger and a whopping amount of lust.

That last made him shift a bit and eye Riddick, who was talking to Troan across the room while Vaako sat in a chair over to the side, an untasted glass of wine in his hand and Protega lying at his feet.

He didn’t need the added stimuli to want the man. He remembered that evening down on the planet in exquisite detail, and it was beginning to irk him that Riddick thought him too fragile for any sort of play beyond light, teasing touches. The Lord Marshall hadn’t said so, of course, but Vaako could tell. The gentleness of those touches, and the watchful eyes that followed his progress when he walked, spoke louder than any words.

He shifted the glass to his other hand and sighed. He was a little tired - the walk here had been harder than he’d anticipated - and drinking this wine would only make him sleepier. He had to be on guard, he knew what Riddick had planned for this gathering. It was a good plan, Vaako hadn’t found any holes in it - beyond the bit that relied on him. He felt utterly unreliable. He hadn’t been able to find his balance since he’d been taken into darkness by those tentacles of light.

At his feet, Protega shifted, an uneasy growl starting in the back of her throat. Vaako followed her eyes to see two Lords and a Lady of the court watching him, their eyes running over him as he sprawled bonelessly over the chair. He was still a bit too weak to sit up properly, spine straight, like Wulia had taught him. Up until this moment, he hadn’t cared.

But he didn’t like the look in their eyes. It reminded him of Yur.

He scowled a little and looked away. It was Riddick’s fault, really - he’d shoved this outfit into his hands and there hadn’t been a thread of any of his other clothing in the room. A sleeveless, high-necked tunic in vivid blood-red silk, shot through with gleaming strands of jet black; it was tightly fitted to his newly very-slender torso. An armband of silver and black stones circled one of his biceps, fashioned in the seal of the Lord Marshall to remind everyone that he was off-limits. Loose black silk pants that draped around his legs should have hidden them from view, but for some reason, they instead displayed his long legs and muscular thighs. He’d pulled his hair back into a loose braid, a few strands escaping to drift around his face.  _That_  he’d done on purpose - Riddick couldn’t look at his hair without licking his lips or the silver eyes lighting with desire.

If Vaako had to be uncomfortable in these clothes, then Riddick could damn well have to stare at the hair that he normally couldn’t keep his hands off of. It was only fair.

Besides, he was rather hoping that it would push the man into doing something later. That, and the fact that his adrenaline was bound to be pumping if the plan worked out. It helped that the silver eyes, so visible in the low lighting of the room, kept turning back to him. Didn’t seem to matter who Riddick was talking to.

Yes, things definitely looked good for later.

He had better stop thinking about it, though, before he started blushing.

There was a sudden commotion near the door, several gasps and aborted cries. He sat up slowly, craning his neck to see past the crowd of Necromonger elite.

Wulia stood in the doorway, head held regally high. Her hair had been cut short during her stint as a menial, but she’d managed to coax it into little glittering curls, dusted through with mica again. She wore a headpiece of diamonds sewn to a nearly invisible silver net, something he hadn’t seen on her in years. Such headpieces had gone out of fashion, but it suited her new, shorter hair. She wore a tight dress of silver-white leather, hugging ever dip and curve of her body.

She’d lost a bit of weight, too.

Her hands were carefully covered with diamond-flecked silver gloves, and he had a feeling it was because she was ashamed of the callouses that would have been worked onto her slender fingers. He snorted softly and slumped back down in the chair. She was as beautiful as ever, and she still made him sick to his stomach.

Wulia’s dark eyes had gone straight to Riddick, a question and a hope in their chocolate depths. The Lord Marshall looked her up and down, then turned back to Troan, his face blank.

Wulia’s lips tightened in a way Vaako was very familiar with, and she left the doorway to drift closer to the man. The elite Court parted before her like waves, moving carefully back. Just because Lady Wulia was back in the upper chambers, dressed as beautifully as before, did not mean she had been forgiven. Until they knew why she was here, most would keep their distance.

Halfway to her goal, Wulia paused, seeming to remember something. Her eyes swept around the room, passing over Vaako and then jerking back, going impossibly wide as they settled on him.

He frowned, wondering at her reaction. He knew he was thinner, and dressed in clothes such as she had  _never_  seen him in before, but... all right, so his hair was different; the braid draped over his shoulder easily touched his waist, and his skin was still so white that it had blue shadows. He’d given up hope of it returning even to its normal paleness. Still, he didn’t feel he looked  _that_  different than before, and her obvious surprise irked him.

Had she not expected him to be here? Surely she knew that Riddick had named him the Right Hand? Garen, if no one else, would have seen to it that she had found out. There had never been any love lost between those two.

Oh, no... she had changed her course, was making her way rapidly toward him. Protega sat up and watched alertly, the faint grumbling growl from before increasing in volume. Wulia stopped a respectful distance away from the animal and tried a smile on him.

"Cylus - will you not greet me?"

"Lady Wulia," he replied, voice perfectly polite, "greetings. How do you fare?"

"Much better than I  _have_  been faring, dear Cylus. Is this your doing, or his?"

He raised a lazy eyebrow at her, fighting the urge to smirk. "I do not know of what you speak, Lady Wulia."

"I am  _speaking_  of the restoring of my position, Cylus." Wulia’s voice was getting less polite, and she took a step closer. Protega protested, and Vaako leaned forward to stroke the huge Hound, not telling her to be quiet.

Wulia didn’t pick up on that subtle hint - she took another step, stopping only when Protega openly snarled at her. "Cylus, can’t you control that beast? It makes me dreadfully nervous."

"She does as she wishes." Leaning forward hadn’t been his best idea. He felt more drained than ever. He had a feeling it had more to do with the anger and resentment pouring off of Wulia than his physical weakness. He slumped back against the chair and sighed softly.

"Are you unwell, Cylus?" Wulia’s eyes glittered, and he saw them dart to someone else. He wasn’t in a position to tell who she had looked at, but he knew Riddick and Troan were. Both of them frowned, and started in their direction. Garen wasn’t far behind, and he saw Aereon moving across the room, as well.

"I am fine, Lady Wulia. I thank you for your concern."

"Cylus... why are you so formal with me? I was your wife, you don’t have to speak thus."

He didn’t reply to that, only glared at her. From the corner of his eye he could see someone moving closer, a Lord that he only vaguely recognized. Were they going to be so unwise as to attack here, with the Lord Marshall only steps away and Protega bristling at his feet?

Apparently not - the Lord... what was his name? Baric? Bartus? something like that... hesitated, looked at the Lord Marshall and back at Vaako, and stopped. Wulia glared at him, her eyes hot and hating. Vaako wondered at that - she was certainly not as good at subterfuge as she had been before. Normally a smile would never have slipped from her face. She’d only been out of the loop for a little over two weeks... or perhaps a bit longer.

Not enough to make her react like this.

But Wulia had been proud, always so very proud, and hungry for more power to give her more to be proud of - being forced to work like a slave would have done strange things to her. There was an odd glitter in her eyes now that made him wonder if she was still entirely sane.

The way she turned on the Lord made him certain she wasn’t.

"Do as you were told!" Her voice was a sharp hiss. The man had already stopped walking, now he backed away, eyes wide and worried.

"I... am not some pet to be ordered about," he said, sounding uncertain, and took another step back. Riddick and Troan had been heading for him but slowed when they heard those words. The man had made up his mind not to follow through with whatever Wulia had ordered.

"Useless!" she snarled, and whirled away from him, the dress twirling around her like petals on a flower. Lovely in her rage; deadly and disgusting at the same time. "Then  _you_  do as you were told!" She pointed an elegant finger at someone to Vaako’s right.

And things started happening very quickly.

Riddick swore, and shoved past Wulia to get to the new threat.

Protega leapt to her feet and snarled wildly.

Troan shoved Wulia at Garen, who caught and held her easily, even as she twisted and screamed.

A weapon fired, and Protega yelped as she was blasted across the room.

Vaako leapt up, fury overcoming weakness, and turned to see Lord Tarlow, the old Chief of Advisors, glaring at him and lifting the weapon for a second shot.

A knife came out of nowhere, spun through the air and buried itself to the hilt in Tarlow’s neck.

The gun discharged into the air over Vaako’s head, taking a chunk out of the wall and spraying his hair with the decorative plaster.

Riddick followed his knife, jerking the gun away from the still-standing dead man, shoving Tarlow over.

The Necromonger elite were crying out and milling around, but Riddick was heading for Vaako, who was trying to get Troan to let go of him long enough to get to Protega.

Wulia was turned over to the guards, who were also standing next to the young Lord who had disobeyed her, although he was not yet clearly under arrest. Riddick raked his eyes over Vaako, saw no injuries on him, and he turned to the fallen Hellhound, as well.

Protega was whining, crouched low to the floor. Rage and Jazz were standing over her, snarling angrily at the Necromongers who got too close. Riddick shoved them aside and knelt next to her, silver eyes studying the blast pattern on her armored hide.

Troan, very unobtrusively, helped Vaako over. By the time he got there, Protega was back on her feet, balanced carefully on three legs, with her right front leg held up close against her body.

"She’ll be fine." Riddick said, knowing Vaako was there without looking around. He got back to his feet and headed straight for Wulia.

The Lady had gone silent in the guards’ arms, only glaring at him with hate-filled eyes.

"Got an excuse?" Riddick sounded bored.

"I hate him. I hate you. I should be High Consort,  _he_  should be scrubbing floors!"

"Got any other friends?" Riddick still sounded bored.

"I will never tell you anything!" She shrieked, beginning to fight the arms that held her.

Riddick turned his attention to the crowd milling around them. "If she’s talked to any of the rest of you, tell me now and I’ll let you live. No scrubbing floors, either."

There was a moment of quiet uncertainty, then a fragile-looking little woman that Vaako remembered as one who was always copying Wulia stepped forward, and two more Lords. Only the Lords had been on the ‘list’ that Troan had come up with; all of the people who had worked on this plan blinked at the Lady.

She had not been expected.

When they had decided that bringing Wulia back to her ‘position’ would give her the confidence to try again, they’d expected her to have guards on her side, possibly some menials, definitely a Lord or two. Baric had been on the list; even Tarlow was listed as a possibility.

They had never thought of Lady Kelia and Riddick was already frowning. It didn’t matter that the Lady had tried nothing, had been quick to step forward and reveal that Wulia had attempted to sway her. What mattered was that they had been unprepared for a possible enemy.

To Riddick, that was unacceptable. The Lord Marshall was going to be in a foul mood for days.

Vaako sighed. He wondered if that was going to ruin his chances of Riddick finally taking him tonight...

Troan answered a sharp gesture from Riddick, moving with the Lord Marshall to the Throne, where they could talk in low voices while the Necromongers kept a respectable distance. Garen and Aereon followed; Vaako sat down in the nearest chair and let Protega lay her head in his lap. He stroked her gently while watching the room.

The guards took Wulia out, still glaring silently. Vaako wondered mildly how Riddick would punish her this time - he had a feeling it would be a bit harsher than ‘scrubbing floors’. The others who had stepped forward when Riddick had made his offer exchanged glances, and began trying to fade back into the crowd, along with Lord Baric.

Silly of them, really, they should know Riddick wouldn’t just forget about them.

Rage had followed Riddick when the man moved away, but Jazz stayed by his mother, taking her place at Vaako’s feet. When the cub snarled, Riddick’s head jerked around.

Vaako was already staring at the two women and the man from earlier, the ones who had reminded him of Yur. Something about the way their eyes slid over him, trying to undress him, like they wanted him in chains and vulnerable the way Yur...

He would not think about that man. He would not let those vague memories try to surface and nag at him, making him wonder exactly what he had forgotten. There had been no ache in his body when he awoke like he had after that night with Riddick, and the Lord Marshall had never told him if Yur had been successful in his attempts or not. The man would have known, someone had cleaned him up and tended to any wounds. There must have been wounds, Riddick had asked if he had been hurting.

Vaako was drifting off in his thoughts again, something he was doing more and more often lately. Not wise when one was weak and nearly defenseless around circling predators. He lifted an eyebrow at the three Necromongers staring at him and waited.

 

*

 

Riddick glared.

Those three had to be the dumbest people on board this ship. To approach Vaako after what had just happened?!

Morons!

Did they really want to die?

Because he wouldn’t mind killing them.

He abruptly abandoned the three he was going over plans with, trying to come up with a way to flush out any possible conspirators who hadn’t come forward. Discussing the best way to punish Wulia. Well, he had some ideas of his own on that, and what he decided was law, wasn’t it?

Not that it mattered right now.

Troan, Aereon and Garen looked at him in surprise as he left, then saw where he was going.

All three of them smiled.

Then went back to making plans.

They were fairly certain the Lord Marshall wouldn’t be coming back to talk. Not tonight.

 

*

 

"You are certain?" Lord Fris was truly beginning to grate on Vaako’s nerves.

"I am quite certain," he replied cooly, meeting the man’s eyes and not trying to hide the irritation he was feeling. Lord Fris radiated desire; desire to take what he couldn’t have, to dominate, to own what he saw as beautiful.

Vaako was getting better at sorting out emotions. Fris’ desire was far different from the raw, honest lust he sensed from Riddick. There was something dark and twisted about the other Lord, and he wondered why the two simpering Ladies put up with him. But then, he sensed the same sort of desire from them, only not as intense. More submissive.

Vaako was so completely and utterly not interested. Even mildly disgusted.

Now he just had to convince Fris of that, because the man wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer.

Or maybe he didn’t. Looked like help was on the way.

Riddick strode past the suddenly silent Lord and his two giggling wenches and reached for Vaako. "C’mon." He hauled him to his feet, both careful not to make Protega move away too quickly, then Riddick leveled one hard stare at Fris.

He might have well shouted the word, ‘Mine!’

Fris visibly deflated, and led his Ladies away.

Riddick repeated the look, eyes going around the room, and ever Necromonger who met those eyes took a respectful step backwards.

Vaako, for some reason, looked to the Throne, and the three sets of eyes that were staring back at him.

Troan was grinning; damn him anyway, he was going to get teased to death over this.

Aereon looked interested. That was unsettling. He wondered what was going on behind those serene eyes, and decided he was just as happy  _not_  knowing.

Garen looked wistful. Vaako could sense longing from this far away, and watched as Garen’s large green eyes moved away from him to settle on Troan. He was standing a bit behind the man, so Troan didn’t see.

Vaako wondered if maybe he should do something about that - Garen was one of the few people he called ‘friend’, and he shouldn’t have to suffer in silence. Maybe Troan could use a little teasing in return...

All those thoughts fled Vaako’s mind as Riddick turned his silver eyes back on him. There was that open, frank lust again, and he blinked, a question in his eyes.

Riddick grinned.

Vaako truly wished they were back in their Chambers.

So did Riddick, apparently. He started walking, one arm slung around Vaako’s slim waist, making sure the man went with him.

Like Vaako had any intention of staying behind.

They went out of the Throne Room, and three Hellhounds followed them.

The Necromongers were silent for a moment, then went back to their party.

 

*

 

They were barely inside the Chamber doors before Riddick was on him, hands instantly under his tunic and tongue thrust deep into his mouth, exploring him with an almost frightening intensity.

Vaako relaxed happily, letting the hands do what they would, enjoying the cool taste of metal and spice that Riddick’s mouth always had. He didn’t think he’d ever get enough of that taste. Didn’t think he’d ever get tired of the big hands that were sliding over the smooth skin of his back, one wandering out to start pulling at the buttons on the red tunic.

It took Vaako a moment to wonder why he felt relieved; it was because the clothes weren’t being ripped off of him, the hands were eager but not harsh. His own hands wandered to the hem of Riddick’s shirt, the same metallic tank top that he’d worn the last time and Vaako was glad of it. He tugged at it, asking permission.

Riddick finished pushing the red silk off his arms and broke the kiss, the tank top vanishing so rapidly that Vaako blinked. Riddick just smirked at him and the warm mouth descended on his neck, and he was being walked backwards until his knees hit the bed and they went tumbling down together.

Loose silk pants did have one thing going for them - they came off easily and quickly. It took Riddick a bit longer to get out of his tight black leather. He swore and Vaako had to fight off a smile. He wasn’t going to complain - he liked the way his Lord Marshall looked in those pants, and it was worth money watching him wriggle to get out of them.

"Gonna go back to my old damn pants." Riddick muttered, moving back on top of him.

Vaako spread his thighs without conscious thought and gasped as Riddick’s body settled between them, their groins coming into close contact. "They’re... so old they’re... falling apart," he managed, his body arching under Riddick without his permission.

Riddick only hummed at him, thrusting his hips leisurely against the trapped body beneath him, big hands wandering over that glowing white skin. He didn’t share Vaako’s dislike of it - it glowed in the shadowed room, so white it was nearly blue. He loved it and hoped it stayed this way. His fingers slid off the broad shoulders and found the braid of hair, tossing the tie across the room and spreading the strands out, stroking it like cat fur. So soft, smoother than the silk tunic, so black that it, too, was nearly blue. Deep, midnight blue.

Vaako sighed and shifted beneath him, his mouth coming up to press almost shyly against his neck, exploring the smooth skin and the slight bit of stubble he found, since Riddick had shaved very early that morning. The man above him growled in pleasure at his actions, and hands tightened in his hair even as lips touched his temple, began exploring his face.

They spent long moments with gently stroking hands, lips touching and tasting and searching out sensitive spots. They were aboard their ship and the entire night was spread out before them; they didn’t have any reason to hurry. Riddick’s searching fingers found a small nipple to play with, teasing the little bit of flesh into a hard nub even as his mouth searched out the other one.

Vaako gave up his own tentative inspection of the larger body to smooth his hands over the shorn head, his body once more arching up into the sensations Riddick found so easy to pull out of him.

Riddick growled against his chest, gave one last lick to the nub that he’d been torturing with teeth and tongue. He began working his way down the smooth abdomen, fingers slipping down to stroke silky smooth skin at Vaako’s flanks. He felt warm, slender hands began to stroke his back, running along the dips and grooves of his iron muscles and he growled again, the sound reverberating against Vaako’s navel.

The man beneath him twisted and choked on a laugh. He didn’t see the wicked grin on Riddick’s face and it was just as well. The growl was repeated, sending those ticklish stirrings through his skin - he bit his lip to keep himself from giggling out loud. Something warm and wet stroked across his stomach, then a hot tongue dipped into his belly button and he writhed. It tickled, and felt incredible at the same time. He didn’t know whether to laugh or moan and settled for a strangled gasp.

Riddick laughed against his skin and he smacked the back of his head lightly, before he even considered his actions. His eyes widened and he waited for a reprimand, but Riddick only laughed harder and moved down, hot lips going to nibble along the inside of a creamy thigh.

Vaako forgot why he’d been worried, his eyes squeezing tightly closed. He felt those strong hands take firm hold of his hips but he didn’t know why. Not until an inferno of wet heat suddenly surrounded his cock and he nearly jumped off the bed. But those hands held him down, held him down  _hard,_  even as the mouth began to move on him, up and down and the tongue was curling around his length. He’d never felt  _anything_  like that before and he bucked and moaned and tried to thrust but those hands held him down...

Just when he thought he was about to explode, Riddick backed away, wringing an embarrassing whimper from his lips. The Lord Marshall smirked, of course.

"That the first time anyone’s ever gone down on you?"

Vaako nodded, eyes wide, not trusting his voice should he try to speak.

"Thought so." There was smug satisfaction in the gravelly voice and he had to fight to keep from rolling his eyes. "Want me to finish you that way, or are you up to more?"

"I am up to whatever you desire," Vaako said hotly, feeling vaguely insulted. "I am not fragile."

"Says you." Riddick’s voice was quiet, but his eyes were shining more brightly than he’d ever seen them. He must have had the little bottle of oil hidden on the bed somewhere, because it was suddenly in his hand. "You sure?"

"Definitely." Vaako gasped, eyes glued to the bottle as Riddick smirked and opened it. He watched as the man coated his fingers thickly and was spreading his legs further before he realized it. Ah, where had his dignity gone?

And did he really care?

No, he decided, when a long finger began pushing inside of him; the memory of this was nothing compared to the actual event. He didn’t remember the strangeness of the first time, only the remarkable pleasure he knew was coming, and he nearly whimpered again. "Another?"

Riddick obeyed, grinning, and Vaako once again wanted to wipe the smugness off his face. He’d like to see Riddick holding out when there were such incredible sensations jolting through his body and - oh.

He’d forgotten about the bit of pain that came with three fingers, but it was  _good_  pain now, because it was necessary for what was coming soon, very soon if he were to judge by the look in Riddick’s eyes. The man seemed to be hanging on to his self-control by the barest thread. Vaako moaned and twisted under the assault of those fingers and saw that thread stretch to the breaking point.

So Riddick liked it when he was moving and making those embarrassing noises? He’d have to remember that.

He’d have to remember that next time, provided he could hold onto any kind of thought, because Riddick was finally moving between his legs, and his other hand must have been busy because the large erection that Vaako couldn’t tear his eyes away from was glistening with that oil, and strong hands were lifting his thighs further, one going across a broad shoulder while the other was caught in the crook of Riddick’s elbow.

Vaako was trapped, open and vulnerable and he couldn’t have gotten away even if he’d wanted to.

Which he didn’t.

There was a strong hand on the small of his back now, holding his hips firmly off the bed, and Riddick was pushing his way carefully inside. Vaako bit his lip at the burn of it, knowing the pain would fade, doing his best to relax and let the man inside. Riddick crooned at him wordlessly, lips finding his and kissing him until he was even more breathless, black spots floating in his vision.

Then the man was fully settled inside him, hot and thick and hard. Perfectly still, waiting for him to catch his breath, to adjust to the intrusion inside him. Riddick felt three times as big as he looked, and he hadn’t looked small.

After a long, motionless moment, Vaako shifted, Riddick moaned, and then he was thrusting into him, long and hard and strong. Vaako thought he was going to die of pleasure as the man unerringly hit that spot inside of him, the one he’d never known existed until the first time they did this. The one he would never forget about again.

It made such pretty flashes of colored light dance in front of his eyes...

He wasn’t going to hold out long. Not after he’d been waiting for this for days, not after that foreplay and the feeling of Riddick’s warm mouth around his erection. Not when the oil-slick hand was grasping him now, pumping him in time to the hard thrusts that were moving him backwards over the bed now. No trace of gentleness left, just that pure raw need, and Vaako was glad of it.

His leg had long ago slipped from Riddick’s shoulder, the other escaping the hold of the man’s arm. Both were wrapped around Riddick’s waist, heels digging into the man’s thighs as he tried to urge him on, his voice lost to gasps and cries. His hands moved wildly across the broad, strong back, feeling the flex of muscle as Riddick drove into him, sliding past the smooth hips until he wrapped one arm around the Lord Marshall’s waist, the other hand becoming the boldest it had been yet and grasping hold of one muscular buttock as he was reduced to hanging on for the ride.

Riddick was growling constantly, not seeming to even draw breath as he pounded into the willing body beneath him. So tight, so hot, like a velvet glove wrapped around his cock and he couldn’t hold out any longer but he was determined to make Vaako come first. He’d missed this desperately, even if he’d only had it once, and he was determined to never miss it again. Do it over and over and over and that was just tonight...

Vaako arched under him suddenly, warmth flooding over his hand and stomach as the heat tightened unbearably around his shaft, wringing his release from him. He dimly heard Vaako cry out, couldn’t think about it now but knew that later he’d remember that it was his name.

His body gave two or three small, aborted thrusts even as the last of his seed was milked from him by the contractions rippling through Vaako’s muscles. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and collapsed onto the smaller man.

Vaako didn’t protest. Warm arms wrapped around him and pulled their sweat-covered bodies closer still, ignoring the stickiness trapped between them. Riddick gave a single thought to tasting that stickiness the next time, then he closed his eyes and forgot everything for awhile.

 

*

 

Vaako was being crushed. He struggled his eyes open and found the Lord Marshall still asleep on him, the big strong body a dead weight and the man’s soft length still inside him.

Funny, he had never thought he’d  _like_  being crushed.

But he couldn’t breathe, so he carefully rolled the man off, gasping when Riddick slid free. The silver eyes opened and studied him, raking down his body as if checking for damage, then a big arm was wrapped around him and pulling him close.

"Mine." The same gravel demand as the last time.

"Yours." Vaako still wouldn’t have dreamed of arguing. He waited a long moment, knowing Riddick was still awake even though the man was motionless. He wanted to ask something - but he was afraid of the answer.

But the question wouldn’t go silent. It forced its way out of his heart, into his throat and out his mouth before he could quench it, a soft whisper that he could barely hear and yet it sounded like a shout in his ears. "M... mine?"

Silence.

Then fingers stroking the length of his hair, and he didn’t know that Riddick had already fought this battle, fought it while Vaako was laying asleep and injured and he didn’t know if the man would ever come back to him. Fought it and found his answer.

And found peace with that answer.

"Yours."

The answer was as quietly spoken as the question, and just as loud in the dim room.

Vaako swallowed against a sudden pain in his throat, and wondered at the stinging in his eyes. "All right," was all he said, and let Riddick tuck his head back beneath his chin, both arms around him now and holding him close.

"Night, then, Cylus. Cy."  
 _  
Cy?!_   He couldn’t let that pass!

"Good night, Richard."

And he grinned broadly when he heard the man’s pain-filled moan.

 

 

_~finis~_


End file.
